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''Morar 


THE  BORZOI  PLAYS 

I    WAR 

By  Michael  Artzibashef 
II    MOLOCH 

By  Beulah  Marie  Dix 

III  "  MORAL  " 

By  Ludwig  Thoma 

IV  THE    INSPECTOR-GENERAL 
By  Nicolay  V.  Gogol 


The  Borzoi  Plays  III 

MORAL 

A  comedy  in  three  acts  translated  by 
Charles  Recht  from  the  German  of 


Ludwig 
Thoma 


New  York  •  Alfred  A  Knopf  - 1916 


COPYRIGHT,  1916,  BY 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF 

The  stage  rights  are  reserved  by  the  trans- 
lator. For  permission  apply  to  Charles  Recht, 
in  care  of  the  publisher. 


PRINTED   IN   THE    UNITED    STATES    OF    AMERICA 


INTRODUCTION 

Dr.  Ludwig  Thoma,  perhaps  better  known  to  his  Ba- 
varian countrymen  as  Peter  Schlemiehl,  was  born  in 
Oberammergau  on  January  21,  1867.  After  graduat- 
ing from  a  gymnasium  in  Munich^  he  studied  at  the 
School  of  Forestry  at  AschaufFenburg.  He  did  not 
finish  his  course  there,  but  entered  the  University  at 
Munich  and  received  his  degree  ps  Doctor  Juris  in  1893. 

A  year  later  Dr.  Thoma  began  to  practice  law;  but  he 
abandoned  that  pursuit  in  1899  to  follow  a  career  for 
which  his  inclinations  and  talents  so  happily  fitted  him. 

He  had  been  writing  humorous  verses  for  Simplicissi- 
mus  for  several  years  under  the  pen  name  of  Peter 
Schlemiehl,  with  such  success  that  the  paper  almost  be- 
came identified  by  that  name.  These  poems  were  later 
published  in  book  form  under  the  title  —  Grobheiten. 

His  prose  writings  in  Bavarian  dialect  as  well  as  his 
boyhood  experiences  entitled,  Lausbubengeschichten,  won 
a  large  and  warm  audience.  In  1899  he  became  the  ed- 
itor of  Simplicissimus.  From  then  on  his  renown  grew. 
The  foremost  critics  of  German  letters  began  to  take 
notice  of  this  "  Bavarian  Aristophanes  "  and  to  compare 
him  to  Heine  and  the  classics. 

When  Moral  and  Lottchen's  Birthday  appeared,  while 
the  reviewers  shook  their  heads  and  stated  that  Dr. 
Thoma  was  shocking  (so  in  original)  they  concluded  that 
their  author  was  "  casting  a  long  shadow."  To-day  Dr. 
Thoma  is  a  recognized  figure  in  Germany.  Prof.  Robert 
F.  Arnold  in  "  Das  Moderne  Drama "  (Strassburg, 
1908)  ranks  him  next  to  Hauptmann. 

His  writings  are  numerous.  A  vein,  satirical  and  hu- 
morous, with  a  conception  of  the  pathetic,  makes  him 
more  than  an  equal  to  Mark  Twain.  In  addition  he  is 
possessed  of  a  message,  which  he  delivers  in  the  Moral. 


O  ( 


Introduction 

First  produced  in  1908  the  play  soon  became  a  part 
and  parcel  of  the  repertoire  of  the  leading  theatres  in 
Germany.  It  was  put  on  for  the  first  time  in  New  York, 
in  German,  at  the  Irving  Place  Theatre  in  the  spring  of 
1914,  through  the  efforts  of  the  late  Heinrich  Matthias 
and  the  writer.  Mr.  Matthias  then  played  the  part  of 
Beermann.  Mr.  Christians,  the  director,  repeated  the 
performance  a  number  of  times  that  season,  each  per- 
formance meeting  with  a  warm  response. 

The  late  Percival  Pollard  was  the  first  American 
critic  to  emphasize  the  importance  of  Dr.  Thoma's  work 
in  his  excellent  resume  of  contemporary  German  litera- 
ture: Masks  and  Minstrels  of  Modern  Germany.  He 
pointed  out  "  that  no  country  where  hypocrisy  or  puri- 
tanism  prevail  as  factors  in  the  social  and  municipal  con- 
duct should  be  spared  the  corrective  acid  of  this  play." 

H.  L.  Mencken  and  George  Jean  Nathan  for  many 
years  have  sung  praises  of  the  Moral  in  the  Smart  Set. 
But  its  production  on  the  English  speaking  stage  still 
remains  an  event  eagerly  to  be  awaited.  Briefly,  the 
play  is  a  polemic  against  the  "  men  higher  up,"  church- 
men, reformers,  and  social  hypocrites. 

The  translation  follows  the  text  implicitly.  Four 
different  versions  were  made  all  varying  in  a  degree 
from  the  original,  and  although  Dr.  Thoma  wrote  to  the 
writer  "  bin  auch  damit  einverstanden  dass  Sie  in  der 
Ubersetzung  meines  Schauspieles  '  Moral '  etwaige  Aen- 
derungen  oder  Adaptiereungen,  die  durch  die  englisch- 
amerikanischen  Verhaltnisse  und  den  Geschmack  des 
amerikanischen  Theatrepublikums  geboten  erscheinen,  in 
entsprechender  Weise  vornehmen  .  .  ."  it  was  deemed 
best  for  purposes  of  publication  to  try  to  preserve  the 
original  atmosphere  without  an  attempt  to  even  transpose 
such  phrases  as  Gnadige  Frau,  or  Herr  Kommerzienrat. 

Charles  Recht. 

New  York,  October,  1916. 


"MORAL" 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 

Fritz  Beermann,  a  wealthy  landowner  and  banker. 

Lena  Beermann,  his  wife. 

Effie  Beermann,  their  daughter. 

KoMMERziENRAT  Adolph  Bolland,  Capitalist  and  manu- 
facturer 

Clara  Bolland,  his  wife. 

Dr.  Hauser,  an  ex-judge. 

Frau  Lund,  an  old  lady. 

Hans  Jacob  Dobler,  a  poet. 

Fraulein  Koch-Pinneberg,  an  artiste. 

Privatdozent  Dr.  Wasner,  a  gymnasium  professor. 

Freiherr  Von  Simbach,  the  Police  Commissioner  of  the 
Duchy. 

Assessor  Oscar  Stroebel,  a  police  official. 

Madame  Ninon  De  Hauteville,  a  lady  of  leisure. 

Freiherr  General  Botho  von  Schmettau,  also  known 
as  Zurnberg.  A  Gentleman-in-waiting  and  Adjutant 
to  His  Highness,  the  Duke. 

Joseph   Reisacher,  a  clerk  of  the  Police  Department. 

Betty,  a  maid  at  Beersmann's. 

Two  man-servants  and  a  policeman. 


2 


THE    PRESUMPTION 

The  esteemed,  sensitive  public  will  assume  that  the  ac- 
tion takes  place  in  Emilsburg,  the  capital  of  the  Duchy 
of  Gerlestein.  The  first  and  third  acts  occur  in  the 
house  of  Herr  Fritz  Beermann;  the  second  act,  in  the 
Police  Headquarters.  It  all  happens  between  Sunday 
afternoon  and  Monday  evening. 

To  be  free  from  blame,  the  producers  will  please 
note  that: 

Beermann  is  in  the  iSfties;  jovial;  lively;  with  gray 
side-whiskers  and  chin  carefully  shaved. 

Frau  Beermann  is  in  the  late  forties,  though  youthful 
looking  for  her  age. 

Frau  Lund  sixty-eight;  a  wom^n  of  impressive  appear- 
ance; her  manner  is  energetic;  her  mass  of  white 
hair  is  carefully  coiffured. 

Frau  Bolland  about  forty-five;  stout;  talkative. 

Dr.  Wasner  a  tall  German  professor  with  full  blond 
beard;  deep  voiced;  wears  pinc-nez  with  black  tor- 
toise shell  rim  and  broad  black  cord. 

Hans  Jacob  Dobler  is  a  poet;  he  is  dressed  in  a  poor 
fitting  cut-away  coat;  unkempt  mustache  and  Van 
Dyke  beard. 

Fraulein  Pinneberg,  a  feminist,  wears  a  loose  fitting 
gown. 

Dr.  Hauser  fifty;  smooth  shaven;  wears  gold  rimmed 
spectacles. 

VoN  ScHMETTAu,  sixty ;  remains  stately  looking  with 
effort;  military  bearing. 

Madame  De  Hauteville  —  indefinitely  twenty;  her 
ultra-fashionable  Parisian  gowns  invite  the  cloak 
and  suit  patrons. 

3 


*'MORAL" 

ACT     I 

FURTHER    APOLOGY 

Card  room  in  Beermann's  house.  In  the  background 
a  swinging  door  opens  into  the  dining  room.  To  the 
right  a  smaller  door  leads  to  the  music  room.  On  the 
left  side  another  door  open^  into  the  entrance  hall.  To 
left  upstage  in  a  corner  a  small  card  table  with  chairs. 
To  right  upstage  a  large  sofa  and  comfortable  chairs. 
Parallel  to  background  down  stage,  tea  table  with  coffee 
service  thereon;  near  it  to  right,  smaller  table,  on  it  a 
humidor. 

A  butler  is  engaged  at  the  tea  table,  another  man 
servant  is  holding  swinging  door  open.  [Business  of 
getting  up  from  table.'\  Many  voices  and  rattle  of  chairs 
are  heard  from  dining  room.  Through  swinging  doors 
enters  Bolland  and  Frau  Beermann,  Beermann  with 
Frau  Bolland,  Dr.  Hauser  with  Effie,  Dr.  Wasner  with 
Fraulein  Koch-Pinneberg,  Dobler  alone. 

General  greeting  of  "  Mahlzeit." 

Dr.  Wasner  is  vigorously  shaking  hands  —  going  to 
Frau  Beermann  says,  "  Ich  wiinsche  Gesegnete  Mahl- 
zeit." 

The  servants  pass  around  coffee  —  Beermann  convers- 
ing with  Bolland  comes  down  stage  .  .  . 

Bolland.     You  will  receive  two  thousand  votes  more 

than  the  Socialists.     That's  certain. 

5 


6  "Moral" 

Beermann    [skeptical].     No, —  no. 

BoLLAND.  If  all  the  Liberals  combine  with  the  Con- 
servatives, the  result  cannot  be  in  doubt. 

Beermann  [taking  coffee  from  the  servant].     If  .  .  . 

BoLLAND.  Fusion  is  here.  It's  the  logical  develop- 
ment. I  am  an  old  politician.  The  time  for  discussion 
is  over.     Now  it's  a  straight  fight  to  a  finish. 

Dr.  Wasner  [coming  nearer].  The  German  father- 
land is  rallying  to  the  support  of  the  national  flag. 

Beermann.  But  there  are  controversies  everywhere. 
I  know  best.  I  always  am  told  by  campaign  managers: 
don't  say  this  and  don't  say  that. 

BoLLAND.     In  what  way.^ 

Beermann.  For  instance,  I'm  to  speak  at  the  Liberal 
Club  the  day  after  to-morrow.  You  would  not  expect 
me  to  say  the  same  things  I  told  the  Conservatives  last 
night  .  .  .    .f* 

BoLLAND.  Your  details,  of  course,  must  differ.  But 
fundamentally  it  amounts  to  the  same  thing. 

Beermann.  The  same  thing.''  Believe  me,  all  this 
masking  confuses  me.      [Drinks.] 

Effie  [calling  across  the  tea  table  where  she  has  been 
standing  with  others],  ^apa !  Listen  to  Frau  Bolland. 
She  also  says  that  the  Indian  Dancer  is  so  interesting. 

Frau  Bolland.  Positively  won — derful,  Herr  Bol- 
land!    You  can  conceive  the  entire  spirit  of  the  Orient. 

Effie.     Why  haven't  we  gone  to  see  her? 

Frau  Bolland.  You  surely  ought  to  go.  Professor 
Stohr  —  you  know  him  —  told  me  he  never  in  his  life 
saw  anything  so  gorgeous. 

Fraulein  Koch-Pinneberg.  She's  so  picturesque  in 
her  greenish  gowns. 

Frau  Bolland.  I  did  not  know  that  the  Hindoos 
could  be  so  charming. 

Beermann.     We'll  have  a  look  at  her  some  night. 

Effie.     But  to-morrow  night  is  her  last  appearance. 


"Moral"  7 

Beermann  [going  to  the  humidor].  Very  well  darl- 
ing. Will  you  remind  me  of  it  to-morrow?  [Taking  a 
box  of  cigars  offers  one  to  Dobler  who  is  standing  near 
him.]     Smoke? 

Dobler  [taking  one].  Thanks.  But  I  am  not  ac- 
customed to  the  imported  ones. 

Beermann  [patronizingly].  You'll  get  used  to  high 
living  soon  enough. 

BoLLAND  [to  Dobler].  How  long  have  you  been  in 
the  city  now? 

Dobler.     Two  years. 

BoLLAND.     And  before  that  you  were  in  ...  eh? 

Frau  Bolland.  You  must  excuse  him  Herr  Dobler. 
Why  in  Unterschlettenbach,  dear.  .  .  .  You  know  that! 

Bolland  [correcting  himself].  Certainly.  Bit  of 
literary  history.  Mighty  interesting  place  that  Unter- 
schlettenbach ...  eh? 

Dobler.  Hardly,  Herr  Kommerzienrat.  Poor  and 
unsanitary.     Most  of  its  inhabitants  are  miners. 

Bolland.  Fancy  that!  And  I  never  knew  it.  Full 
of  miners!  Tell  me  though,  what  do  you  think  of  our 
set  here  .  .  .  ?  How  do  you  like  this  well-to-do  circle 
.  .  .  the  big  city  .  .  .  wealthy  surroundings? 

Dobler  [lighting  a  cigar].  I  like  it  well  enough. 
But  I  think  I  will  always  feel  out  of  place  here. 

Bolland.     Can't  get  used  to  it? 

Dobler.  Everything  is  so  different.  It  seems  to  me 
at  times  as  though  I  had  suddenly  entered  a  beautiful 
house  while  outdoors  my  old  comrade  was  awaiting  me 
patiently  —  the  open  road. 

Frau  Bolland.  Isn't  that  won — derful?  So  very 
re-a-lis-tic-ally  put!  I  can  just  picture  it.  Oh  Herr 
Dobler  ...  I  must  tell  you:  your  novel  —  my  husband 
and  I  talk  about  it  all  day  long. 

Bolland.  Tell  me  though  —  did  you  yourself  ex- 
perience the  life  of  that  young  man  you  describe? 


8  "Moral" 

DoBLER.     It's  the  story  of  my  youth. 
BoLLAND.     But  it's  somewhat  colored  by  poetic  imagi- 
nation ? 

DoBLER.      N o. 


BoLLAND.  For  instance,  you  have  never  actually 
starved  ? 

DoBLER.     Oh,  yes.     There's  no  imagination  in  that. 

BoLLAND.  Just  the  way  you  describe  it  —  so  that 
everything  turned  red.'' 

DoBLER.  Everything  had  a  pink  color.  On  one  oc- 
casion I  did  not  eat  anything  for  four  and  one-half  days. 

Frau  Beermann  [^compassionately].  You  poor 
thing ! 

Frau   Bolland.     That's   exceedingly  interesting! 

BoLLAND.  Do  tell  us  all  about  it !  Then  you  saw 
dancing  fires  .^ 

Dobler.  Yes.  Everything  danced  before  my  eyes, 
and  I  saw  it  all  through  a  hazy  veil,  and  towards  the 
end  my  hearing  was  affected. 

Bolland.     You  don't  say  so?     Your  hearing  also? 

Dobler.  When  any  one  spoke  to  me  it  sounded  as  if 
he  stood  a  great  distance  off  —  a  great  distance. 

Frau  Bolland.     Our  set  never  dreams  of  such  things. 

Beermann.     How  did  it  all  turn  out? 

Dobler.     What  do  you  mean? 

Beermann.  Well,  in  the  end  you  got  something  to 
eat  again? 

Dobler.  Finally  I  fainted;  I  was  found  lying  in  a 
meadow,  and_was  taken  to  the  hospital. 

Frau  Beermann  [sighing].  Are  such  things  still 
possible  in  our  day? 

Frau  Bolland.  What  can  you  expect  —  of  these 
idealists ! 

Dr.  Hauser.     They  deserve  nothing  better. 

Beermann.  And  after  you  were  in  the  hospital  — 
how  did  you  get  out? 


"Moral"  9 

DoBLER.  As  soon  as  I  got  stronger.  Later  on  I  be- 
came a  printer  —  found  a  position  —  studied  and  pub- 
lished my  book. 

Beermann.  That's  all  in  your  novel,  I  know.  But 
the  part  where  you  describe  how  you  were  a  tramp  — 
that's  not  true  } 

DoBLER.     Yes,  I  "  hoboed  "  almost  a  whole  year. 

Frau  Bolland.  "Hoboed!"  Fancy  that!  How 
unique  I 

Fraulein  Koch-Pinneberg.  I  can  just  picture  it. 
Tramping  along  the  railroad  tracks. 

Dobler.  Yes.  You  folks  think  you  can  picture  it 
with  four  square  meals  a  day.  But  it's  quite  different, 
I  assure  you.  There  were  three  of  us  at  that  time.  We 
worked  our  way  from  Basel  upwards  —  sometimes  on  the 
left  —  sometimes  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Rhine.  In 
Worms  we  spent  the  last  of  our  money  and  we  had  to 
peddle  for  hand-outs. 

Frau  Bolland  [not  understanding  him].  "  Hand- 
outs .''  "     What  is  that  ? 

Dobler  \_with  pathos].  To  beg  for  something  to  eat, 
gnadige  Frau,  for  our  daily  bread. 

[They  all  remain  silent.  Only  the  voice  of  the  butler 
who  is  serving  liqueur  can  be  heard.]  "  Cognac  mon- 
sieur I     Chartreuse !     Champagne  ?  " 

Beermann  [taking  a  glass].  To  a  man  of  refine- 
ment, such  an  existence  must  have  been  quite  unbearable. 

Dobler  [taking  a  glass  of  cognac  from  the  butler]. 
Unpleasant.  [Drinking.]  But  you  lose  your  sensitive- 
ness. At  first  it  is  hard  —  but  one  learns.  In  one  hot 
day  on  the  road  .  .  .  when  you  get  fagged  out  —  and 
with  every  stone  hurting  your  feet  —  you'll  learn.  The 
dust  blinds  you  —  but  you've  got  to  go  on  j  ust  the  same. 
In  the  evening  you  come  to  a  small  hamlet  with  smoke 
curling  above  the  house-tops  and  the  houses  themselves 
look  cozy  —  then  you  have  to  hold  your  hat  in  your  hand 


10  "Moral" 

and  beg  for  a  plate  of  warm  soup.      [A  short  pause. ^ 

Dr.  Wasner  [deep  bass  voice].     Home  sweet  home! 

BoLLAND.  The  story  reminds  me  exactly  of  my  late 
father. 

Frau  Bolland.     But,  Adolph  ! 

BoLLAND.     Indeed,  I  say  it  does  ! 

Frau  Bolland.  How  can  you  draw  such  a  compari- 
son  ?     Herr  Dobler  has  become  a  celebrated  poet. 

Bolland.  My  father  also  achieved  something  in  life. 
At  his  funeral  four  hundred  employees  followed  the 
coffin. 

Frau  Bolland  [impatiently^.  We've  heard  that  be- 
fore. .  .  .  Herr  Dobler,  did  you  write  poetry  in  those 
days  ? 

Dobler.     No,  Frau  Bolland.     Much  later. 

Frau  Bolland.  I'll  have  to  read  your  novel  all  over 
again,  now  that  I  know  it  is  all  autobiographical. 

Frau  Beermann  [to  Dr.  Wasner].  You  were  going 
to  sing,  Herr  Professor } 

Dr.  Wasner.     I  promised.  .  .  . 

Frau  Beermann.     Yes,  do,  Effie  will  accompany  you. 

Dr.  Wasner.  If  Fraulein  will  be  so  kind  .  .  .  but 
I  don't  know  how  my  voice  is  to-day.  .  .  . 

Frau  Bolland.     You  sing  so  beauti — ful — ly. 

Dr.  Wasner.  So  much  campaign  work.  Politic? 
corrupts  even  the  voice. 

Fraulein  Koch-Pinneberg.     Do  oblige  us. 

[Frau  Bolland,  Frau  Beermann,  Dr.  Wasner,  Frau- 
lein Koch,  Effie  go  out  into  the  music  room.] 

Beermann.  It's  a  pity  that  the  professor  is  going  to 
sing.  We  could  have  started  a  game  of  skat.  Have 
some  more  cognac  ? 

Dr.  Hauser.     No,  thanks. 

Dobler.     Thanks.     No  more  for  me. 


"Moral"  11 

[Bolland  seats  himself  on  sofa;  Dr.  Hauser  and  Dob- 
ler  sit  in  chairs;  Beermann  lights  a  fresh  cigar.  The 
butler  goes  into  the  music  room  and  as  he  opens  the  door, 
the  sound  of  the  piano  is  heard."] 

Bolland.  As  I  said  before  Herr  Dobler,  your  story 
reminded  me  very  much  of  my  late  father. 

Dr.  Hauser.  Of  the  well  known  Kommerzienrat 
Bolland  .> 

Bolland  [^sinTcs  deep  into  chair;  crosses  legs'].  Never 
mind  he  was  not  always  a  wealthy  Kommerzienrat. 
[^Turning  to  Dobler.]  Picture  to  yourself  a  winter 
landscape  —  it's  bitter  cold  —  a  gray  sky  —  it  is  snow- 
ing and  everything  is  wrapped  in  snow.  Through  all 
this  we  see  a  youth  walking  —  rather  staggering  — 
along  the  forest  road  from  Perleberg.  A  half  starved 
young  man.  [He  pauses  and  brushes  ashes  from  his 
cigar.  The  butler  enters  from  the  music  room  to  get  a 
glass  of  water;  then  he  goes  out  again.  While  the  door 
is  open,  the  trembling  bass  baritone  voice  of  Prof.  Was- 
ner  is  heard.] 

"  In  deinen  Augen  hab  ich  einst  gelesen 
Von  Lieb'  und  —  Gliick  —  von  Lieb' 
und  Gluck  den  Schein.  .  .  ."  * 

[The  door  closes  and  the  sound  is  shut  off.] 

Bolland  [now  continues  his  speech].  And  now  the 
snow  falls  faster  and  faster.  This  poor  young  man  had 
par  tout  nothing  to  eat  since  the  morning.  He  becomes 
very  weak;  sits  down  on  a  bundle  of  twigs  and  falls 
asleep.  Just  by  sheer  chance  it  happens  that  a  man 
from  Perleberg  passing  by  sees  this  dejected,  snowed-in 

*  (Translated):  —  "  In  thy  dear  eyes  I  once  read  the  story 
Of  love  and  Joy  —  of  Love, 
And  Joy  agleam.  .  .  ." 


12  "Moral" 

figure  and  takes  the  young  fellow  home  with  him.  [He 
pauses.]  And  this  young  man  later  became  my 
father.  .  .  . 

Hauser.     And  Herr  Kommerzienrat  Bolland. 

BoLLAND.  Yes.  Herr  Kommerzienrat  Bolland. 
[To  Dobler.]  Now  don't  you  consider  it  quite  remark- 
able.'*    Wouldn't  that  make  a  fine  novel? 

DoBLER.     Yes.  .  .  .  Yes. 

Bolland.  That  could  be  worked  up  very  nicely, 
couldn't  it  ?  A  poor  young  man  —  the  snow  covered 
landscape.  .  .  . 

Hauser.     And  that  bundle  of  twigs. 

DoBLER.  Fortune  has  her  unique  whims  and  likes  to 
turn  the  tables. 

Bolland.  That's  it  exactly.  Fortune  delights  in 
turning  the  tables. 

Hauser.  Unique  whims?  No.  That  sort  of  thing 
happens  every  day. 

Bolland.     What  happens  every  day? 

Hauser.  The  story  of  a  poor  young  man  who  be- 
comes a  millionaire.  Every  large  factory  boasts  of  a 
like  progenitor. 

Bolland.     Do  you  think  so? 

Hauser.  And  the  poor  young  man  grows  poorer  with 
each  telling.  Your  son,  Herr  Bolland,  in  his  description 
will  have  his  grandfather  freeze  to  death  on  the  bundle 
of  twigs. 

Bolland.  Upon  my  word  the  story  is  gospel.  [To 
Dobler.]  I'd  make  use  of  that  plot.  .  .  .  How  he 
founded  his  business  and  how  it  grew  and  grew.  .  .  . 

[As  Frau  Beermann  enters  from  the  music  room,  the 
tremulous  voice  of  Prof.  Wasner  is  heard.] 

"  BehUt  dich  Gott,  es  hat  nicht  sollen  sein."  * 
*God  guard  thee  well,  it  was  but  a  dream. 


"Moral"  13 

[The  closing  of  the  door  shuts  off  the  sound.] 

DoBLER.  In  one  respect  you  are  right.  The  char- 
acter of  the  self  made  man  *  has  hardly  been  treated  in 
contemporary  German  literature. 

BoLLAND  [mith  enthusiasm].  That's  just  what  I 
claim.  Always  about  the  poor  people  only.  But  take 
a  man  who  has  a  large  income  —  one  who  makes  a  suc- 
cess of  his  business,  that  also  is  poetry. 

Hauser.  I'd  have  my  ledger  novelized,  if  I  were  you, 
Bolland.      [A  maid  opens  door,  admitting  Frau  Lund.] 

Frau  Beermann  [welcoming  Frau  Lund].  Mama 
Lund,  how  good  of  you, 

Frau  Lund  Ivivaciously].  Always  glad  to  come 
here.  Good  afternoon,  gentlemen.  Where  is  my  little 
Effie? 

Frau  Beermann.  In  the  music  room.  [To  the 
maid.]     Please  tell  my  daughter.  .  .  . 

Frau  Lund.     No,  no,  don't  disturb  her. 

Beermann.  Permit  me.  [Introducing.]  .  .  .  Herr 
Hans  Jacob  Dobler,  our  famous  poet.  .  .  . 

Frau  Lund  [taking  his  hand].  A  famous  poet.'' 
Delighted. 

Bolland.     Author  of  "  Life  Story  of  Hans.",  .  . 

Frau  Lund  [pleasantly  to  Dobler].  If  I  were 
younger,  Herr  Dobler,  I  would  certainly  make  believe 
that  I  read  your  book.  But  at  my  age  I  find  that  sort 
of  thing  too  tiresome.  What  is  the  "  Life  Story  of 
Hans".? 

Dobler.     It  is  a  novel,  gnadige  Frau. 

Bolland,     A  masterpiece. 

Frau  Lund,  Then  my  ignorance  is  unpardonable. 
I'll  soon  make  reparation. 

[Frau  Bolland  followed  by  Effie,  Dr.  Wasner  and 
Fraulein  Koch  hurry  out  of  the  music  room.] 

*  So  in  original. 


14  "Moral" 

Frau  Bolland.  I  am  off  for  the  Arts  Club.  I'll  be 
late,  I  fear.  [To  Frau  Lund.]  Oh,  how  do  you  do, 
Frau  Lund? 

Effie  [hurries  over  to  Frau  Lund  and  kisses  her 
hand].     Mama  Lund ! 

Frau  Lund.  How  is  my  little  mischief  maker.'' 
When  are  you  coming  to  see  me.'' 

Effie.  I  would  glady  come  .  ,  .  but,  I  am  so  busy 
with  music  lessons  and  Professor  Stohr's  lectures.  .  .  . 

Frau  Lund.  And  this  and  that  and  your  eighteen 
years.     You  are  quite  right,  my  dear. 

Frau  Bolland  [to  Frau  Beermann].  May  Effie 
come  along.''  They  say  there  are  very  won-der-ful 
paintings  at  the  Arts  Club. 

Frau  Beermann  [turning  to  Frau  Lund].  I  don't 
know  if  .  .  . 

Frau  Lund.  Of  course,  let  her  go  along.  She  has 
such  a  pretty  little  dress.  Why  should  she  be  here 
with  us  old  people.''  The  gentlemen  will  entertain 
us.  .  .  . 

Frau  Bolland.  But  then  we'll  have  to  hurry.  It  is 
quite  late.  Good-bye,  Frau  Beermann.  I  enjoyed  my- 
self so  much.  Good-bye,  my  dear  Frau  Lund.  So  glad 
to  have  seen  you  again.  Good-bye,  good-bye  .  .  . 
Adolph ! 

Bolland.     Yes,  Mother. 

Frau  Bolland.  You  won't  forget  the  theatre  to- 
night.'' At  eight.  The  Viennese  actor  is  so  fine.  [Off 
to  left.  Followed  by  Effie  and  Frdulein  Koch.  Frau 
Bolland  in  the  doorway .] 

Frau  Bolland.  Will  you  come  with  us,  Herr  Dobler. 
You  can  explain  so  many  things. 

Dobler.  I'll  be  glad  to.  [Shaking  hands  with  Frau 
Beermann  and  bowing.] 

Beermann.     Come  soon  again,  Herr  Poet. 

Bolland.     And  think  over  the  story  I  told  you. 


"Moral"  15 

[Dobler  goes  out  left,  following  Frau  Bolland,  Effie 
and  Frdulein  Koch.^ 

Frau  Lund  [to  Frau  Beermann].  I'll  just  have  a 
cup  of  coffee. 

Frau  Beermann.  I'll  tell  them  to  make  a  fresh  cup 
for  you.  A  fresh  cup  of  coffee.  [To  the  butler  who  is 
clearing  the  table.]  Tell  the  chef —  [Butler  goes 
out  through  the  middle  door.  In  the  meantime  Frau 
Bolland  again  appears  through  left."] 

Frau  Bolland.     Adolph! 

Bolland.     Yes  —  wif  ey  } 

Frau  Bolland.  Thursday  the  circus  comes  to  town, 
don't  forget  to  reserve  seats. 

Bolland.     All  right! 

Frau  Bolland  [while  going  out].  I'm  still  a  child 
when  the  circus  comes. 

[Frau  Lund  seats  herself  on  sofa.  Next  to  her  on 
the  right  Frau  Beermann;  Beermann  and  Bolland  sit 
opposite  in  large  leather  chairs.  Hauser  is  standing 
behind  the  sofa  leaning  against  it.] 

Frau  Lund  [to  Hauser].  Tell  me  Judge,  where 
have  you  been  keeping  yourself  all  this  time  ? 

Hauser.  In  my  office,  Frau  Lund,  only  in  my  office. 
But  I  hear  that  you  were  on  the  Riviera. 

Frau  Lund.  Four  weeks  in  Monte  Carlo.  Children, 
I  gambled  like  an  old  viveur. 

Beermann.     What  luck.'' 

Frau  Lund.  I  lost,  of  course  —  I'm  too  old  to  set  the 
world  on  fire.  But,  Beermann,  I  hear  all  sorts  of  sur- 
prises about  you.  You  are  a  candidate  for  the  Reich- 
stag .'' 

Beermann.     Yes,  they  nominated  me. 

Frau  Lund.     Who  are  "they".'' 


16  "Moral" 

Beermann.  The  combined  Liberals  and  Conserva- 
tives.  .  .   . 

Hauser.  And  the  Conservatives  and  Liberals  com- 
bined. 

Frau  Lund.     Formerly  these  were  distinct  parties. 

Hauser.     P'ormerly^ —  formerly. 

Beermann.     Now  there  is  fusion. 

Frau  Lund  [to  Frau  Beermann'\.  You  never  told 
me  that  your  husband  was  in  politics. 

Frau  Beermann.  He  never  was  —  up  to  two  weeks 
ago. 

Frau  Lund.  How  quickly  things  change !  And  of 
all  the  people  .  .  .  you ! 

Beermann.     What's  so  startling  in  that? 

Frau  Lund.  You  told  me  that  you  never  even  read 
the  newspapers. 

Bolland,  We  all  are  cordially  grateful  to  Beer- 
maim  that  in  an  hour  of  need  he  made  this  sacrifice. 

Frau  Lund.  The  way  you  talk  about  the  "  hour  of 
need "  and  "  sacrifice"  Herr  Konmaerzienrat,  it  seems 
to  me  that  you  would  have  been  the  better  candidate. 

Bolland.     Oh,  I  am  too  pronouncedly  Liberal. 

Hauser.     And  that's  an  incurable  disease! 

Bolland.  At  any  rate  it  makes  my  nomination  im- 
possible. A  man  was  needed  who  was  not  known  as  a 
party-man. 

Frau  Lund.  It  would  seem  then  that  our  friend 
Beermann  has  become  a  politician  because  he  ...  is  no 
politician  } 

Hauser.     That's  what  is  known  as  "  fusion." 

Beermann.  Allow  me  to  ask  a  question.  Why 
should  I  not  become  a  Reichstag  deputy? 

Hauser.  Quite  right !  Frau  Lund  —  tell  him  — 
why  shouldn't  he? 

Beermann.  Because  I  am  a  novice  in  politics?  We 
all  have  to  make  a  start. 


"Moral"  17 

Hauser.  It's  the  only  calling  where  one  can  start 
any  day,  Frau  Lund,  without  being  called  upon  to  pro- 
duce qualifications. 

BoLLAND.  There  you  can  tell  the  lawyer.  You'd 
like  to  establish  a  civil  service  examination  for  members 
of  the  Reichstag.'' 

Hauser.  You  are  not  afraid  that  it  might  hurt 
them? 

Beermann  [with  importance^.  Let  me  tell  you, 
Judge.  What  a  person  achieves  in  real  life  is  far 
greater  than  all  your  book  wisdom.  We  have  too  many 
lawyers  anyway.  It's  one  of  our  national  misfor- 
tunes. 

Frau  Lund  [merrily  to  Frau  Beermann].  Look! 
He's  beginning  to  debate  already. 

BoLLAND  [careless  pose].  As  you  know,  I  run  a 
soap  factory  where  I  employ  four  hundred  and  sixty-two 
workmen  .  .  .  let  me  repeat  it,  four  hundred  and  sixty- 
two  workmen.  Their  livelihood  and  welfare  lies  in  the 
palm  of  my  hand;  don't  you  think  that  requires  brains.'* 

Hauser.     But  .  .  . 

BoLLAND  [interrupting].  Do  you  realize  what  the 
amount  of  detail  and  the  management  of  the  whole  fac- 
tory means.'' 

Hauser.  But  friend  Beermann  never  even  worked  in 
a  soap  factory.     How  can  that  apply  to  him.'' 

Beermann.  Oh,  what's  the  use  of  discussing  things 
if  you're  joking. 

Hauser.     Really,  I  can't  see  the  connection. 

Beermann.  At  any  rate,  I'm  a  better  candidate  than 
the  book-binder  whom  the  Socialists  have  put  up  against 
me. 

BoLLAND.  Beermann  has  had  greater  experience  and 
has  a  broader  point  of  view. 

Frau  Lund.  Then  there's  something  else  I  heard 
about  Herr  Beermann,  that  I  don't  like  at  all. 


18  "Moral" 

Beermann.     About  me? 

Frau  Lund.  Yes,  I  hear  that  you  are  the  President 
of  the  new  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Vice.  What 
makes  you  do  such  things.''     That  isn't  nice. 

Frau  Beermann.     I  fully  agree  with  you. 

Beermann.  You  do.''  For  what  reasons?  When 
honest  men  select  me  as  their  President,  is  that  mere 
flattery  ? 

Frau  Lund.  It  is  not  becoming  to  you,  and  you  are 
insincere  in  it. 

Frau  Beermann.  It's  as  false  as  anything  can  be, 
and  you  speak  about  problems  which  you  have  never 
understood. 

Beermann.  Pardon  me !  I  ought  to  know  best  what 
is  becoming  for  me. 

Frau  Lund.  There's  no  one  in  the  world  I  dislike  as 
much  as  a  preacher.  But  if  a  person  wants  to  be 
one  .  .  .  then,  according  to  the  gospel  he  ought  to  live 
on  bread  and  water.  It  doesn't  go  well  with  champagne 
and  lobster. 

Beermann.  Do  the  Scriptures  command  that  we 
must  be  poor  to  be  honorable? 

Frau  Lund.  No,  Beermann,  but  if  I  still  remember, 
they  speak  of  a  camel  and  a  needle. 

Bolland.  The  ladies  evidently  are  not  acquainted 
with  the  purposes  of  our  new  society.  I  am  sure  they 
would  subscribe  to  every  one  of  the  principles  which  are 
incorporated  in  our  By-laws. 

Frau  Lund.      I   certainly  would  not. 

Bolland  [feeling  in  his  side  pocket^.  At  least  read 
our  "  Appeal  to  the  Public." 

Frau  Lund   [refusing].     No,  thank  you. 

Bolland.  Every  woman  will  rejoice  when  she  reads 
it. 

Frau  Lund.  Do  you  think  so?  How  exceedingly 
amusing  your  societies  are !     So,  cards  and  bowling  no 


"Moral"  19 

longer  offer  sufficient  entertainment.  You  have  to 
moralize. 

Hauser.  I  can't  help  thinking  of  the  notorious 
starvation  freak  at  the  circus  who  gets  his  meals  on  the 
sly  everyday. 

Dr.  Wasner.  Of  course,  every  conviction  can  be 
made  ridiculous  once  it's  regarded  as  insincere.  You 
shouldn't  accuse  without  proof. 

Hauser.  Herr  Professor,  politeness  requires  that 
each  individual  be  regarded  as  the  exception  —  but  not 
an  entire  club. 

BoLLAND.  It  is  a  pity,  indeed,  that  a  great  move- 
ment like  ours  is  disposed  of  by  a  few  trifling  remarks. 
That  embitters  our  task  of  curing  the  nation  of  social 
diseases. 

Frau  Lund.  Where  did  you  get  your  Doctor's  license 
to  cure? 

Dr.  Wasner.  It's  sad  enough  that  the  cure  is  left 
to  only  a  few  of  us. 

Hauser.  Well,  I'll  remain  a  patient.  You'll  need  a 
few  anyway  to  keep  up  your  business. 

Beermann.  I  consider  all  this  a  very  cheap  kind 
of  humor.  I  used  to  joke  about  these  matters  myself, 
but  if  you  will  only  look  upon  this  problem  from  a  serious 
point  of  view,  when  your  eyes  are  opened  to  the  .  .  . 

Frau  Beermann.  .  .  .  Your  newly  acquired  ways 
of  talking  are  quite  unbearable. 

Beermann.     Please,  don't  make  a  scene. 

Frau  Beermann.  We  have  been  married  for  twenty- 
six  years;  have  been  very  fortunate  with  our  own  chil- 
dren.    Why  worry  about  other  people.'' 

Beermann.  You  are  not  logical,  my  love.  The 
mere  fact  that  I  brought  up  my  children  properly  is  all 
the  more  reason  for  my  joining  this  movement.   .   .   . 

Frau  Beermann.  You  didn't  lose  much  sleep  about 
their  education. 


^ 


20  "Moral" 

Beermann.     Evidently  I  didn't  neglect  anything. 

Frau  Lund.  I'm  afraid  you  pride  yourselves  on  a 
degree  of  willpower  you  never  exercised. 

Beermann.  Never  exercised.'^  My  dear  Frau  Lund, 
what  do  you  know  about  the  temptations  which  confront 
us  men.     What  does  a  woman  know  about  them.^ 

Frau  Lund.  The  only  thing  we  women  don't  know 
about  is  the  manner  in  which  these  temptations  termi- 
nate. 

Beermann.  Our  movement  intends  to  do  away  with 
these  very  deceptions.  We  want  to  protect  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  home  which  women  treasure. 

Frau  Lund.  No.  We,  women  also  treasure 
modesty.  We  dislike  to  see  men  pretend  to  have  better 
morals  than  they  actually  have. 

Beermann.  Seriously,  Frau  Lund.  Public  immor- 
ality must  hurt  you  more. 

Frau  Lund.  You  are  mistaken.  It  requires  a 
genuine  manly  feeling  to  sympathize  with  misery. 

Dr.  Wasner,  Misery  and  vice  are  different  prob- 
lems. 

Frau  Lund.  They're  not.  And  that  is  why  we  will 
never  agree. 

Frau  Beermann.  All  the  more  reason  why  my  hus- 
band should  not  set  himself  up  as  an  example.  He 
knows  nothing  of  worry  or  care. 

Beermann.  We  can  never  subscribe  to  Frau  Lund's 
principles. 

Frau  Lund.     No  principles,  please ! 

BoLLAND,  Out  of  sheer  opposition  you  will  say  that 
you  hold  different  ones  from  us. 

Frau  Lund.     No.     I  will  say  that  I  hold  none  at  all. 

BoLLAND 

and  [[together].     But,    gnddige    Frau! 

Wasner 


"Moral"  21 

Frau  Lund.  I  can't  help  it.  I  lost  them  some  place 
on  my  journey  through  life.  I  have  learned  that  all 
your  principles  have  loop  holes  through  which  people 
can  conveniently  slip  out  and  take  their  friends  along 
with  them.  So  I  had  my  choice  of  either  surrendering 
them  or  dishonestly  preaching  them  to  others. 

Dr.  Wasner.  Real  principles  of  life  are  never  given 
up. 

Hauser  l^with  sarcasml.     Cheers  from  the  gallery! 

BoLLAND.  Principles  of  morality  are  the  laws  of 
nature  —  they  are  her  dictates. 

Frau  Lund.  Is  that  the  reason  you  have  started 
your  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Vice.''  Do  you 
imagine  your  by-laws  are  stronger  than  the  laws  of  na- 
ture } 

Dr.  Wasner.     May  I  make  just  one  remark .f* 

Beermann.     What  is  it? 

Dr.  Wasner  [stroking  his  heard].  In  summing  up 
the  matter  we  can  come  to  this  decision:  women  have  a 
beautiful  privilege.  Certain  facts  in  life  remain  a  closed 
book  to  them.  We,  men,  unfortunately  have  to  come 
into  contact  with  them. 

Hauser.     Did  you  say  unfortunately? 

Dr.  Wasner.  Please  don't  interrupt.  I  maintain 
"  unfortunately  " !  For  the  last  four  years,  I  have  been 
persistently  following  obscene  literature,  and  to-day  I 
have  gotten  together  a  collection  of  it,  which  I  dare  say 
is  pretty  complete.  So  I  am  speaking  of  matters  about 
which  I  am  thoroughly  informed.  [With  importance.] 
The  degree  of  vulgarity  our  people  have  reached  is  in- 
credible. 

Frau  Lund.  And  you  have  been  the  "  persistent  col- 
lector "  of  this  vulgarity.'' 

Dr.  Wasner.  Let  me  assure  you  that  I  took  upon 
myself  this  task  with  loathing. 

Hauser.     Herr  Professor,  in  all  my  life  I  have  never 


22  "Moral" 

met  a  man  who  for  four  years  voluntarily  did  something 
which  was  loathsome  to  him. 

Dr.  Wasner.  You  have  no  business  to  make  such  a 
remark. 

Hauser.  Have  you  derived  no  satisfaction  from  it 
at  all.? 

Dr.  Wasner.  Satisfaction  —  if  you  mean  the  satis- 
faction of  participating  in  the  uplift  of  our  people. 

Frau  Lund.  Uplift.''  Our  reformers  capitalize  our 
national  lack  of  good  taste.  Good  proof  of  that  are 
the  moral  works  of  art  which  you  patronize. 

Dr.  Wasner.  The  matter  we  are  discussing  is  more 
serious  than  reforming  bad  taste. 

Frau  Lund.     There  is  nothing  more  serious. 

Dr.  Wasner  [knowingly].  If  you  but  knew,  Frau 
Lund ! 

Frau  Lund.  I  don't  have  to  call  and  see  your  collec- 
tion. Frankly,  to  me,  the  most  obscene  picture  in  your 
gallery  could  not  be  more  disgusting  than  the  talk  you 
carry  on  in  your  meetings. 

Beermann.     Oh !     Oh ! 

Frau  Lund.  The  nudity  of  the  human  body  is  not 
disgusting.  It  is  the  nudity  of  your  mind.  No  vice  is  as 
repulsive  as  that  virtue  of  yours  which  loudly  uncovers 
itself  in  public  —  in  market  places.  Vice  has  at  least 
the  shame  to  hide  itself. 

Beermann  [to  Bolland].  Can  you  understand 
her? 

Bolland.     I  must  admit,  I  can't. 

Dr.  Wasner.  Gnddige  Frau  stated  that  vice  hides 
itself.     But  in  spite  of  that  it  exists. 

Bolland.     Yes,  she  admitted  that  it  exists. 

Dr.  Wasner.  Shall  we  tolerate  it  merely  because  it 
crawls  into  dark  nooks  and  corners.'' 

Frau  Lund.     You    reformers !     Let    more    sunshine 


"Moral"  23 

into  this  world  and  vice  will  not  find  so  many  dark  cor- 
ners and  nooks  to  hide  in. 

BoLLAND.  You  would  not  be  as  opposed  to  us  if  you 
had  a  son  who  would  be  exposed  to  the  temptations  of 
our  great  cities. 

Frau  Lund.  I  would  be  ashamed  of  myself  if  for 
personal  reasons  I  became  narrow-minded. 

Beermann.  But  just  stop  to  think!  Picture  a 
healthy  young  man  in  his  prime  falling  into  the  hands 
of  one  of  these  abominable  creatures ! 

Frau  Lund.  I  could  picture  something  worse  than 
that. 

Beermann.     Still  worse.'' 

Frau  Lund.  For  instance,  if  he  should,  with  all  the 
credulity  of  youth,  enter  into  the  work  of  your  society. 

Bolland.     Well!     Well! 

Beermann.  You  don't  seem  to  take  anything  seri- 
ously to-day. 

Frau  Lund.  Very  seriously;  this  young  man  perhaps 
does  reach  the  stage  where  he  sincerely  pities  your  so- 
called  abominable  creature.  Then  he  has  really  ad- 
vanced in  his  morality.  Let  the  pity  impress  itself 
deeply  upon  him  and  your  abominable  creature  has 
preached  better  to  him  than  all  your  high-sounding 
phrases. 

Bolland.     I  am  simply  dumbfounded. 

Dr.  Wasner.  Then  you  even  believe  that  our  society 
exerts  a  bad  influence .'' 

Frau  Lund  [very  positively].     Yes. 

Bolland  [with  irony].  Fancy!  University  Profes- 
sors, philanthropists  and  a  general  who  are  with  us  in 
this  work  —  they  are,  of  course,  the  ones  who  are  likely 
to  corrupt  the  morals  of  the  younger  generation.  Frau 
Lund,  no  doubt,  would  like  to  send  our  young  men  to  the 
good  Ladies  of  the  Pavement. 


24  "Moral" 

Dr.  Wasner.     In  what  way  is  our  influence  bad? 

Frau  Lund  ^with  warmth].  The  young  man  who 
joins  your  society  does  it  only  to  ape  you  and  to  advance 
his  own  ends  and  vainglory.  He  forever  deprives  him- 
self of  understanding  the  meaning  of  life  and  of  becom^ 
ing  helpful  to  those  who  suffer. 

BoLLAND.  Well  what  do  you  think  of  such  state- 
ments ? 

Frau  Beermann.  They  are  splendid.  I  would  be 
very  thankful  if  my  boy  would  embody  the  ideals  of  Frau 
Lund. 

Beermann.  Lena,  I  simply  forbid  you  to  say  such 
things. 

Frau  Beermann.     Really? 

Beermann.  Everybody  knows  that  Frau  Lund  is  a 
radical,  but  I  don't  want  you  to  fall  into  that  habit. 

Frau  Beermann.  I  don't  acquire  new  habits  as 
rapidly  as  you. 

Hauser  [to  Beermann].  Don't  get  excited.  A  poli- 
tician must  give  everyone  an  opportunity  to  express 
his  views. 

Dr.  Wasner.  I  teach  young  people  and  I  heartily 
wish  they'd  continue  to  seek  their  ideals  among  high 
minded  men  and  not  in  the  dark  city  streets. 

Bolland.  Right!  And  not  in  the  dark  city 
streets. 

Frau  Lund.  Nor  there,  Herr  Kommerzienrat,  where 
the  veil  of  shame  is  rudely  torn  from  inborn  sensitive- 
ness and  it  is  shorn  of  every  secret  charm. 

Dr.  Wasner.  Correct!  We  do  want  to  deprive  it 
of  its  charm. 

Frau  Lund.  You  succeed  in  doing  that;  no  tender- 
ness can  survive  the  brutal  frankness  of  your  meetings. 

Dr.  Wasner.  It  is  not  a  national  German  trait  to 
sugar-coat  sin. 


"Moral"  25 

Frau  Lund.  Why  do  you  confound  all  lack  of  refine- 
ment with  the  national  character? 

Dr.  Wasner.  Because  it  is  good  German  to  call  a 
spade  a  spade. 

Beermann  [getting  up].  Why  argue  to  no  purpose? 
Let's  start  our  game  of  skat. 

BoLLAND.  Because  it  appears  to  be  a  conflict  of  two 
different  philosophies. 

Beermann  [rises,  goes  to  card  table,  opens  a  drawer, 
takes  out  a  deck  of  cards  and  opens  them'].  It's  always 
the  same  old  story.  Never  start  anything  with  women! 
They  must  have  the  last  word.  [Sits  down  at  card  table. 
Bolland  gets  up  and  sits  beside  him.] 

Frau  Lund  [laughing].  Spoken  again  like  a  typical 
reformer. 

Dr.  Wasner  [rising].  I  don't  want  to  continue  this 
argument,  but  if  by  any  chance  you  have  gained  the  im- 
pression that  I  regard  this  matter  from  a  prejudiced 
view  point,  I  will  cheerfully  admit  it.     I  do. 

Beermann  [calling].  Oh,  do  come  on,  Herr  Pro- 
fessor. 

Dr.  Wasner  [turning  to  card  table].  I'm  coming. 
[To  others.]  I  admit  with  pride  that  I  am  prejudiced. 
For  me  there  exists  only  one  question:  How  can  I  best 
serve  my  fatherland? 

Bolland.     Herr  Professor! 

Dr.  Wasner  [turning  to  table].  Just  a  moment.  .  .  . 
[To  others.]  Let  the  sturdy  qualities  of  our  people  be 
conserved.  That  stand  is  unassailable.  Then  I  will  be 
sure  that  my  efforts  have  at  least  .  .  . 

Beermann  [loudly].     But,  my  dear  Wasner! 

Wasner  [not  dismayed,  continuing].  .  .  .at  least  a 
national  scope. 

Hauser.     Wouldn't  you  rather  play  skat,  professor  ? 

Wasner   [going  over  to  card  table].     There  remains 


26  "Moral" 

only  one  thing  for  me  to  say.  If  I  have  used  sharp 
words,  I  want  to  apologize.      [Takes  a  seat.J 

Beermann.     You  deal,  Professor. 

Dr,  Wasner  [shuffling  the  cards  and  talking  at  the 
same  time].  For  me  there  exists  but  one  ideal.  That 
which  Tacitus  described  as  it  once  prevailed  among  the 
old  Teutons.  Quamquam  severa  illic  matrimonia  nee 
ullam  morum  partem  magis  laudaveris.  [He  lets  Bol- 
land  cut  and  then  deals.']  The  most  praiseworthy  trait 
of  the  Teutons  was  the  strictness  of  their  marriage  cus- 
toms. Nam  prope  soli  Barbarorum  singulis  uxorihus  con- 
tenti  sunt.  They  were  almost  the  only  barbarians  to 
content  themselves  with  a  single  wife. 

Beermann   [loudly].     Tournee! 

BoLLAND.     I'll  go  you! 

Beermann.     Twenty ! 

BoLLAND.     I'll  better  that! 

Beermann.     Take  it !     Gr as-Solo! 

[They  play.] 

[Hauser,  Frau  Lund,  Frau  Beermann  remain  sitting 
at  right.] 

Frau  Lund.     At  last  the  Fatherland  is  saved. 

Frau  Beermann.  It's  the  only  occupation  for  which 
nature  intended  them.  They  should  not  tinker  with  na- 
tional problems. 

Hauser.  Have  patience.  Political  ambition  dies  out 
after  the  first  defeat. 

Frau  Beermann.     .  .  .  which  I  hope  will  happen. 

Hauser.  That's  as  certain  as  fate.  Else  he  never 
would  have  been  nominated. 

Beermann  [calling  from  the  card  table].  I  have 
pretty  sharp  hearing! 

Hauser.  A  very  fine  acquisition,  Beermann,  when 
you  grow  old. 

BoLLAND  [throwing  a  card  on  the  table].  Fifty-nine 
and  four  make  sixty-three !     The  rest  you  can  take. 


"Moral"  27 

[They  throw  down  their  cards;  Bolland  collects  them 
and  shuffles.] 

Wasner  [half  turning  to  Hauser],  And  then  there 
is  the  celebrated  passage,  "  Ergo  septa  pudicitia  agunt, 
nullis  .  .  .  spectaculorum  illecebris  corruptee." 

Beermann.     I  have  six  cards. 

Bolland.  The  bottom  one  belongs  to  the  Profes- 
sor. 

Wasner  [as  before,  continuing].  So  the  wife  lived 
surrounded  by  tenderness  and  care  .  .  .  and  so  forth, 
"  Literarum  secreta.  .  .  ."  Secret  communications- were 
not  tolerated  by  either  husband  or  wife. 

Beerwann.  Please  drop  that  Tacitus.  It's  your 
chance  to  lead.  .  .  . 

Wasner.     I  pass.  .  .  . 

Bolland.     So  do  I. 

Bolland  [loudly  and  enthusiastically].  That's  the 
way  to  get  at  them !     Trumps  !     And  trumps  again. 

Wasner  [murmuring].  "  Faucis sima  adulteria  in 
tarn  numerosa  gente.  ..."  [Gradually  lapses  into  si- 
lence and  then  continues  to  play  with  energy.] 

Frau  Lund  [with  a  glance  towards  the  card  table]. 
Why  do  we  take  our  principles  so  seriously.  .  .  .  It's 
really  ridiculous  how  our  every  opinion  soon  turns  into 
religious  beliefs. 

Wasner.     The  matter  is  dead  serious. 

Frau  Lund.     Who  will  think  of  it  to-morrow? 

Hauser  [nodding  towards  card  table].  Not  they,  of 
course.  But  there  are  cleverer  people.  The  so-called 
thinking  public  in  Germany  must  have  some  national 
problem  to  solve.  It  finds  some  such,  readily  enough  in 
order  to  play  with  it.  Meanwhile  they  take  no  notice 
that  the  party  in  power  *  are  lining  their  pockets. 

Frau  Lund.     Haven't  they  always  been  doing  that.'' 

*  Men  with  the  brass  buttons. 


28  "Moral" 

Hauskr.  Yes,  but  not  with  such  ease.  Here  and 
there  tliey  were  rapped  over  tlie  knuckles.  But  nowa- 
days they  could  cart  away  the  entire  capitol. 

Frau  Lunu.     There's  not  so  much  left  to-day. 

Hauskr.  A  couple  of  pieces  anyhow  to  take  along  as 
keepsakes. 

Frau  Lund.  In  my  days  I  saw  one  reform  after  an- 
other on  the  Ivirgain  counter ;  but  we  women  remain  mere 
spectators  while  ideals  come  and  go;  we  can  not  realize 
how  much  they  mean  to  men. 

Hauskr.  My  dear  Frau  Lund,  if  a  real  reform 
should  effectively  rise  among  us  some  day,  then  you 
women  will  have  to  lend  a  helping  hand.  With  those 
[nodding  torcards  card-table]  kindergarten  heroes  noth- 
ing can  be  accomplished. 

Frau  Bkkrmann.  What  influence  can  we  exert  so 
long  as  men  organize  their  societies  for  the  protection 
of  women's  virtue ! 

Hauskr.  These  henpecked  gentlemen  always  nomi- 
nate themselves  chastity's  guardians. 

Frau  Bkkrmann.  They  are  of  importance  only  when 
they  can  get  some  one  to  listen.  I'd  like  to  go  to  their 
meetings  and  tell  them  that. 

Hauskr.  Their  meetings  —  bosh !  Their  sort  only 
couple  their  nonsense  with  a  few  self-evident  generali- 
ties which  no  one  would  really  oppose.  No,  first  of  all 
they  must  be  educated  and  that  you  women  alone  can 
accomplish. 

Frau  Lund.  You  say  that  as  if  we  had  any  influence 
on  public  opinion. 

Hauskr.  You  do  all  the  applauding.  The  whole 
game  is  played  for  you.  If  you  withdraw  your  applause 
not  a  single  one  of  the  peacocks  of  virtue  will  open  up 
his  gospel  feathers  for  exhibition.  It  is  indeed  of  great 
importance  to  you  that  they  do  not  banish  all  refinement 
from  our  social  life. 


"Moral"  29 

Frau  Lund*  [citing']. 

"  Yes,  while  still  thy  sanctuaries  of  pleasure 
Crowned  this  earth  like  in  Arcadia 
Joy  had  no  penalty  nor  trader's  measure.   .   .  . 

Dr.  Wasner   [when  the  citation  began  listened  over 
his  cards,  now  falls  in  zvith  deep  bass], 
".  .  .  Venus  Amathusia." 

BoLLAND  [angrily  breaking  in].  Man  alive,  why 
didn't  you  play  your  Ace  of  Spades?  If  you  had 
brought  out  that  Ace  you'd  have  a  trump  —  then  you'd 
beat  this  with  a  trump  .  .  .  and  then  another  trum,  .  .  . 

Beermann,  Now,  beloved  friends  and  countrymen, 
no  post-mortem  speeches.  [While  dealing  cards.] 
You  cut,  Bolland. 

BoLLAND  [cutting  cards].  Make  use  of  your  trumps, 
Herr  Professor.     I  am  trying  to  play  into  your  hands. 

Dr.  Wasner.     I  thought  .  .  . 

BoLJ>AND.  You  didn't.  If  you  had  you'd  play  differ- 
ently. 

Beermann  [speaking  to  Frau  Lund,  while  dealing]. 
How  far  have  you  gotten  with  your  moralizing?  Have 
we  agreed  yet —  [Laughing.]  Yes;  yes;  these  women 
folks ! 

Wasner  [arranging  cards  in  his  hand].  They  were 
citing  Schiller  a  moment  ago.  We  must  not  forget, 
ladies,  that  it  was  Schiller  himself  who  awakened  the 
national  spirit  of  our  race. 

Hauser.  Your  national  spirit  unfortunately  found  its 
way  into  the  strangest  kinds  of  containers. 

*  In  original: 

Frau  Lund  [zitierend]. 

Ja,  da  eur  Wonnedienst  noch  glanzte, 
Wie  ganz  anders,  anders  war  es  da ! 
Da  man  deine  Tempel  noch  bekranzte.  .  .  . 
Dr.    Wasner    [hat    beim   Zitieren   der   Schillerischer    Verse 
heriiber  gehorcht  und  fallt  nun  mit  tie  fen  Basse  ein].  .  .  .  Ve- 
nus  Amathusia. 


so  "Moral" 

Dr.  Wasner.  I  decidedly  protest  against  such  a  poor 
opinion.  If  the  sincere  religious  sentiment  of  the  Ger- 
man element  .  .  . 

BoLLAND  [interrupting  him'\.  We  are  waiting  for 
you,  Herr  Professor.  Are  you  finally  going  to  announce 
your  cards.'' 

Dr.  Wasner  [continuing  his  pathetic  tone].     I  pass. 

Hauser.  The  steady  contact  with  school  children 
keeps  our  educators  refreshingly  naive.  That  man  still 
believes  in  the  superiority  of  the  Teutonic  element. 

Frau  Lund.  And  in  the  stability  of  our  special  Ger- 
man moral  standard. 

Hauser.  Until  some  little  scandal  crops  up  again. 
By  the  way,  we  shall  soon  have  one  right  in  our  city. 

Frau  Beermann   [with  interest].     Here.'' 

Hauser.  To-morrow  you'll  read  all  about  it  in  the 
newspapers.  The  police  have  made  a  discovery  which 
may  prove  more  than  they  bargained  for. 

Frau  Beermann.  Here.''  [Beerman,  head  side- 
ways, listens  over  his  cards.] 

Hauser.  Last  night  the  police  arrested  a  woman 
who  kept  a  very  open  house.  She  colored  it  by  going 
under  a  fancy  French  name,  and  they  say  only  enter- 
tained the  best  of  society.  She  kept  a  diary  which  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  police. 

Beermann  [he  leaves  his  seat,  comes  forward,  right]. 
A  diary? 

BoLLAND  [drops  his  cards  and  rises].  What  sort  of 
a  diary? 

Hauser.  Oh !  Just  a  naughty  little  inventory  of  all 
of  her  visitors. 

Beermann.     What  is  the  name  of  the  lady? 

Hauser.     Some  French  name  which  sounds  to  me  like 

rouge. 

Beermann.  I  can't  understand  how  you  could  for- 
get her  name. 


"Moral"  SI 

BoLLAND.  I  can't  either  as  long  as  you  seem  to  know 
all  about  it. 

Frau  Beermann  [to  Beermann'].  But,  Fritz,  why 
should  you  worry  about  it? 

Beermann.  Well  ...  am  I  the  President  of  the 
Vice  Suppression  Society  or,  am  I  not  ....'' 

CURTAIN 


ACT     II 

An  office  at  Police  Headquarters.  To  rear  on  the  left 
stands  the  Assessor's  desk.  To  the  right  against  the 
wall,  the  desk  of  Reisacher,  the  police  clerk.  Left  front 
is  a  sofa  with  two  chairs.  On  the  right  wall  is  a  tele- 
phone. Side  entrance  left.  Another  entrance  in  the 
middle.  Stroebel  and  Reisacher  are  seated  with  their 
backs  to  one  another.  Stroebel  is  reading  a  newspaper; 
Reisacher  is  writing.     Short  pause. 

Stroebel  [half  turningl.     Reisacher! 

Reisacher   [also  turning].     Yes,  Herr  Assessor* 

Stroebel.  Are  you  familiar  with  the  expression 
"  those  higher  up  "? 

Reisacher.     Yes,  Herr  Assessor. 

Stroebel.     What  do  you  understand  by  it? 

Reisacher.  Those  are  the  folks  who  are  something 
and  have  money  somewhere. 

Stroebel.     Is   it  used  to   express  contempt  or  class 

hatred  ? 

Reisacuer  [eagerly].    Well  .   .   .  well!    "The  higher 

ups  "  are  respected. 

Stroebel.     Are  you  certain? 
Reisacher.     Absolutely. 

[They  both  turn  around  to  their  former  positions; 
Stroebel  continues  to  read,  and  Reisacher  to  write. 
Short  pause.] 

*  An  assessor  is  a  petty  police  official. 

32 


"Moral"  88 

Stroebel  [half  turning].     Reisacher! 

Reisacher  l^does  likewise].     Yes,  Herr  Assessor. 

Stroebel.     After  all,  it  means  class  hatred. 

Reisacher.     No,  no. 

Stroebel.  Pay  attention.  Here  it  says  [he  reads]  : 
"  Of  course,  for  those  higher  up  there  are  no  laws." 
That  means,  I  take  it,  that  the  rich  are  beyond  the  con- 
trol of  the  law.  By  "  control  of  the  law,"  I  wish  you 
to  understand  I  am  attacking  the  humiliating  and  an- 
archistic notion  that  the  law  does  not  apply  equally  to 
rich  and  poor.  Also  I  want  to  besmirch  the  rich,  by 
designating  them  by  a  slang  expression. 

Reisacher.     Yes,  Herr  Assessor. 

Stroebel.  Then  how  can  you  say  it  does  not  ex- 
press class  hatred  and  contempt.'' 

Reisacher.  Because,  then  again,  you  see,  people 
who  have  money  are  respected  anyway. 

Stroebel.  You  will  never  learn  to  think  precisely, 
Reisacher. 

Reisacher.     Yes,  Herr  Assessor. 

[Both  resume  their  former  positions.  Short  pause. 
Police  Commissioner,  Freiherr  von  Simhach,  enters  left. 
Stroebel  lays  aside  his  paper,  rises  and  salutes.  Rei- 
sacher writes  hurriedly.] 

Commissioner.*  'Morning,  Herr  Assessor.  [To 
Reisacher.]  Take  your  work  outside,  Reisacher,  imtil  I 
have  finished.  [Reisacher  exit  through  middle  door.] 
I  want  to  ask  you  a  few  questions,  Herr  Stroebel. 
[Stroebel  bows.  The  Commissioner  during  the  conver- 
sation takes  center  of  stage  and  speaks  nonchalantly  and 
somewhat  drawingly.]  I  read  your  report.  Day  be- 
fore yesterday,  that  was  on  Saturday,  you  ordered  the 
arrest  of  a  certain  woman. 

Stroebel.     Yes,  Commissioner. 

Commissioner.     Well,  what  about  her? 

*  President  of  Police,  in  original. 


34  "Moral" 

Stroebel.  According  to  the  report  of  Lieutenant 
Schmuttermaier^  we  have  in  our  hands  a  very  dangerous 
person. 

Commissioner.     Is  that  so  ! 

Stroebel.  Within  a  short  time  she  has  almost  de- 
moralized our  city. 

Commissioner.  She  has  been  in  the  city  about  three 
or  four  years.  .  .  . 

Stroebel.     She  has,  according  to  the  report. 

Commissioner.  In  what  way  has  she  been  danger- 
ous.'' Did  bald  headed  gentlemen  loosen  up  a  bit  in  her 
house  or  are  there  special  charges  against  her.'' 

Stroebel.  No  special  ones,  but  her  whole  behavior. 
She  had  a  beautiful  apartment  in  the  best  residential 
district.  According  to  the  report,  the  neighbors  began 
to  talk  about  her.  She  dressed  in  a  rather  fast  and 
fashionable  manner.  .  .  . 

Commissioner.  Then  because  she  did  not  cater  to  the 
common  people,  you  consider  her  so  terrible  ? 

Stroebel.     No,  Commissioner. 

Commissioner.  I  thought  not.  Remember,  please,  I 
don't  want  you  to  get  any  of  the  popular  ideas  about  the 
corruption  of  our  best  society.  Slit  skirts  cause  as  much 
harm.      [Stroebel  bows.']     What  is  her  name? 

Stroebe.  Ninon  De  Hauteville.  But  her  real  name 
is  Therese  Hochstetter. 

Commissioner.     H-a-u-t-e  V-i-1-l-e? 

Stroebel.  She  comes  of  a  good  family.  Her  father 
was  a  Peruvian  consul.  When  he  lost  his  money,  she 
married  a  consular  secretary.  He  divorced  her  four 
years  ago. 

Commissioner.  Indeed.  So  she  is  a  person  of  re- 
finement. 

Stroebel.     But  she  has  .  .  . 

Commissioner.     ...  A     demoralizing     influence.     I 


"Moral"  35 

know  all  about  that.     Tell  me,  what  made  you  arrest 
her? 

Stroebel  Iwith  importance'^.  Eight  days  ago,  I  re- 
ceived a  letter  severely  rebuking  the  police  because  her 
place  was  tolerated.  .  .  . 

Commissioner.     Who  was  the  letter  from.^ 

Stroebel  [hesitatingly^.  It  was  .  .  .  really  .  .  . 
anonymous. 

Commissioner.  I  hope  that  you  are  very  careful 
about  anonymous  communications. 

Stroebel.  Generally,  I  pay  little  attention  to  them. 
But  this  letter  was  so  full  of  details,  I  simply  had  to 
consider  it.  Of  course,  only  as  a  hint  and  I  intended  to 
get  proof.  I  gave  it  to  Schmuttermaier  and  told  him 
to  keep  the  Hochstetter  woman  under  strict  surveillance. 
Saturday  at  noon  we  obtained  positive  evidence. 

Commissioner.     Then.'' 

Stroebel.  Then  I  ordered  Schmuttermaier  to  raid 
the  place  .  .  . 

Commissioner.  ,  .  .  During  which  you  found  a  di- 
ary in  her  apartments.'' 

Stroebel.  Yes,  Commissioner;  a  diary  with  the 
names  of  her  visitors.  The  dates  and  their  social  stand- 
ing.    Everything. 

Commissioner.     Have  you  finished  reading  it  ? 

Stroebel.  No,  sir.  I  just  glanced  at  it.  I  only 
got  it  from  Schmuttermaier  an  hour  ago.  I  was  not  in 
the  office  yesterday. 

Commissioner  [thoughtfully].  It's  too  late  to  do 
anything  to-day.  [Consulting  his  watch.]  Let  me  see. 
Bring  me  an  exact  report  of  all  important  names  con- 
tained in  the  diary  ...  at  ten  to-morrow  morning. 

Stroebel,     Yes,  Commissioner,  at  ten  o'clock. 

Commissioner.  And  remember,  it's  very  important 
that  you  make  this  report  personally.     Don't  let  the 


36  "Moral" 

clerk  see  the  diary.     It  has  not  yet  been  in  his  hands? 

Stroebel  [going  to  his  desk'\.  No.  It's  locked  up 
in  my  desk. 

Commissioner.  Time  enough  to  bring  it  to  me  to- 
morrow morning  when  you  make  your  report. 

Stroebel.  How  do  you  want  me  to  get  my  data, 
Commissioner?  Shall  I  summon  the  important  people 
involved  ? 

Commissioner  [rvith  emphasis].  Only  .  .  .  the  im- 
portant .  .  .  names  .  .  .  that's  all.  By  the  way,  how 
far  have  you  gone  in  the  case?  Have  you  taken  any 
further  steps? 

Stroebel.  No.  I  will  examine  the  Hochstetter 
woman  in  a  little  while.  .  .  . 

Commissioner.  And  Schmuttermaier  ?  Has  he  or- 
ders to  make  any  further  raids  ? 

Stroebel.     Not  yet.     I  want  to  read  the  diary  first. 

Commissioner.  Above  all,  I  do  not  want  him  to  act 
without  instructions.  People  of  no  importance  like  to 
do  important  things. 

Stroebel.  Yes,  Commissioner.  Your  orders  will  be 
carried  out. 

Commissioner.  Orders?  I  never  give  orders.  You 
have  your  duties  to  perform.  I  don't  care  to  tell  you 
what  to  do.  .  .  .  But  there  must  be  no  further  raids  un- 
til I  have  seen  the  diary. 

Stroebel.     Certainly,  Commissioner. 

Commissioner.  At  the  same  time,  don't  neglect  your 
duty. 

Stroebel.  I  will  do  everything  necessary  for  the 
promotion  of  public  decency. 

Commissioner  [who  has  been  pacing  the  room,  turns 
suddenly.]  Public  decency?  Very  well,  very  well. 
.  .  .  [Short  pause.]  We  occupy  a  most  peculiar  posi- 
tion. Do  we  not,  Herr  Stroebel?  [Stroebel  bows.] 
We  know  fully  the  existing  difference  between  official 


"Moral"  37 

.  .  .  and  let  me  say  .  .  .  personal  sensitiveness,  do 
we  not?  [Stroebel  bows  in  accord.']  I  mention  this 
merely  because  you  spoke  of  public  decency.  There  is 
a  decency  about  which  you  and  I  privately  might  have 
most  interesting  discussions.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
such  decency  can  be  without  limits.  But  there  is  an- 
other —  the  public  decency  —  which  it  is  our  business 
to  police.  This  has  its  very  precise  limits.  For  exam- 
ple, a  scandal.  Scandal  of  any  description.  Am  I 
right,  Herr  Assessor.^ 

Stroebel  [^clicks  his  heels  together'].  Certainly, 
Commissioner. 

Commissioner.  That  brings  me  to  another  matter. 
For  the  past  few  weeks,  there  has  been  in  the  city,  a 
so-called  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Vice.  Have 
you  any  sympathy  with  these  people.'' 

Stroebel.     I  know  of  their  aims.  .  .  . 

Commissioner.  Their  aims  do  not  interest  me  a  bit. 
I  mean,  do  you  personally  cooperate  with  them.^ 

Stroebel.     Not  .  .  .  yet. 

Commissioner.  Not  yet.'*  .  .  .  Hem!  .  .  .This  Soci- 
ety is  likely  to  interest  itself  in  this  case.  If  someone 
comes  to  see  me,  Herr  Stroebel,  I  will  refer  him  to  you. 
[Stroebel  bows.]  Kindly  bear  this  one  thing  in  mind. 
These  men  have  political  ambition,  and  are  playing  to 
the  press.  On  the  whole  the  thing  shows  conservative 
tendencies. 

Stroebel.     Certainly,  Commissioner. 

Commissioner.  Welcome  them  with  open  arms. 
Agree  gratefully  to  every  suggestion  for  the  betterment 
of  the  people,  et  cetera.  Listen  with  respectful  appre- 
ciation but  do  nothing  further. 

Stroebel    [uncertain].     Nothing  further?  .  .  . 

Commissioner.     No  .  .  .  nothing  further. 

Stroebel.     Yes,  Commissioner. 

Commissioner.     These    people    must    remain    assured 


S8  "Moral" 

that  they  wield  a  great  influence.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
they  have  none  at  all  and  it's  a  good  thing  they  haven't. 

Stroebel.     So,  I  may  .  .   . 

Commissioner.  .  .  .  Do  everything  you  can  be  re- 
sponsible for.  As  a  matter  of  principle,  I  do  not  like 
to  give  orders.  You  will  submit  that  report  then  [con- 
sulting his  watch]  at  ten  to-morrow.''  Good  morning! 
[Goes  toward  the  door  left,  remains  standing  a  moment, 
then  turns  around.]  You  have  been  rather  zealous  in 
your  work,  I  must  say.  [Stroebel  bows  slightly.]  To 
arrest  a  woman  on  the  strength  of  an  anonymous  letter 
shows  excessive  zeal.  [Stroebel  bows  slightly.]  I  like 
to  see  my  men  energetic  but  [clears  his  throat]  bear  in 
mind  what  I  just  said.  Careful  of  a  scandal!  Good 
morning !      [Exit.  ] 

[Stroebel  sits  down  and  stares  at  ceiling.  He  swings 
his  chair  around,  then  whistles.  Reisacher  comes  in 
through  middle  door  and  seats  himself  at  his  desk.  He 
coughs.] 

Stroebel  [half  turning].     Reisacher. 

Reisacher  [does  likewise].     Yes,  Herr  Assessor. 

Stroebel.  How  long  have  you  been  in  the  police  de- 
partment .'' 

Reisacher.     It  will  be  eighteen  years  this  fall. 

Stroebel.     You  have  seen  many  a  change,  no  doubt? 

Reisacher.     Surely. 

Stroebel.  Tell  me,  how  long  has  our  Commissioner 
been  in  office.'' 

Reisacher.  The  Commissioner?  Oh  .  .  .  it's  seven. 
No,  let  me  see,  it's  eight  years.  .  .  . 

Stroebel.  Hem  ...  do  you  really  suppose  he 
wants  us  to  keep  our  eyes  wide  open  all  the  time  ? 

Reisacher  [eagerly].  Certainly.  That's  what  he 
wants. 

Stroebel.     Does  he?       ...   [Short  pause.]     I  had 


"Moral"  39 

an  idea  he  didn't  want  us  to  be  too  strict  for  fear  of  no- 
toriety. 

Reisacher  [eagerly^.  No,  no.  He  certainly  would 
not  like  that. 

Stroebel  [turns  around  completely].  Listen,  Rei- 
sacher, you  contradict  yourself  all  the  time. 

Reisacher  [turns  around  likewise'].  I  beg  your  par- 
don, Herr  Stroebel.     May  I  suggest  .  .  . 

Stroebel.  But  you  are  always  contradicting  your- 
self.    First  you  say  yes,  and  then  you  say  no. 

Reisacher.  I  beg  your  pardon,  Herr  Assessor  Stroe- 
bel. I  wanted  to  say  that  in  the  Police  Department  it 
is  like  this:  Everything  you  do  is  all  right,  if  it  turns 
out  all  right. 

Stroebel  [turns  back  to  his  desk].  You  will  never 
learn  to  formulate  a  thought  precisely. 

Reisacher  [also  turns].     All  right,  Herr  Stroebel. 

[Short  pause.  Stroebel  reads.  Reisacher  writes.  A 
commotion  is  heard  through  the  middle  door,  which  is 
thrown  open  and  Ninon  De  Hauteville  enters.  Behind 
her  a  policeman,  who  holds  he'''  tightly  by  the  arm. 
She  tries  to  free  herself.] 

Hauteville  [she  wears  a  large  picture  hat,  and  is 
highly  perfumed].  Keep  your  hands  off  me.  I  haven't 
killed  anyone.     Please,  let  me  go. 

Stroebel  [he  has  risen].     What's  the  matter? 

Police  Officer  [releasing  her,  stands  at  attention]. 
Have  the  honor  sir,  to  report  this  disreputable  woman 
—  the  Hochstetter  person. 

Hauteville.  Please,  help  me,  sir.  I  am  being  han- 
dled like  the  commonest  criminal. 

Stroebel,  Why  do  you  keep  that  hat  on?  You  are 
not  paying  us  a  visit? 

Hauteville.     Indeed  not!     I  am  not  paying  a  visit. 


40  "Moral" 

If  I  lived  to  be  a  hundred,  it  would  never  occur  to  me 
to  pay  you  a  visit. 

Stroebel.  Don't  talk  so  much.  Do  you  under- 
stand.'*     [To  Reisacher.]      Get  your  report  book  ready. 

Hauteville,  Is  this  the  complaint  office.''  I  demand 
to  know  at  least  why  I  was  arrested. 

Stroebel.  Oh,  here  you'll  find  that  out  soon  enough. 
[To  the  officer.!^  You  can  go  now.  [^Officer  exit  through 
middle  door.'] 

Hauteville.  Oh,  Monsieur,  what  shameful  treat- 
ment. I  was  locked  up  in  a  cell  with  two  ordinary 
street  walkers.     You  will  help  me,  won't  you? 

Stroebel  [who  has  crossed  over  to  Reisacher], 
Please  don't  be  so  familiar. 

Hauteville.  I  am  so  helpless.  No  one  will  listen 
to  me.  No  one  answers  me.  An  awful  looking  woman 
brought  me  a  cup  of  yellow  broth  and  a  rusty  spoon  — 
[indicating  with  her  hand]  so  big.  "  Eat,"  she  said,  and 
threw  it  down  and  left.  You  will  see  to  it,  sir,  that  my 
friends  are  notified,  won't  you? 

Stroebel  [glancing  over  Reisacher's  shoulder].  Your 
friends  cannot  help  you  here.  [To  Reisacher.]  Don't 
make  the  margin  so  wide.  You  are  wasting  good  paper. 
[To  Hauteville.]  Your  friends  can  do  nothing  at  all 
for  you. 

Hauteville,  You  think  so,  do  you?  One  single 
word  and  I'll  be  set  free. 

Stroebel  [contemptuously].     Indeed! 

Hauteville.  Before  the  day  is  over  everyone  of  you 
will  have  to  apologize  to  me.  Yes,  before  this  day  is 
over. 

Stroebel.  Certainly.  [To  Reisacher.]  The  word 
"  Assessor  "  has  two  "  s"  in  all  cases. 

Hauteville.  If  you  people  had  the  least  idea  whom 
you  disturbed.  If  you  knew  whom  you  compelled  to 
hide  in  thfe  wardrobe. 


"Moral'*  41 

Stroebel  {^turning  quicTcly  to  Hauteville'\.  In  the 
wardrobe?  So!  [To  Reisacher.]  Make  a  note  of  that, 
Reisacher.  [With  emphasis-l  So  someone  escaped  us 
by  hiding  in  the  wardrobe. 

Hauteville.  Yes,  someone  escaped  you  by  hiding  in 
the  wardrobe. 

Stroebel  [suddenly  very  friendlyJ]  Upon  my  word, 
Madame,  I  believe  that  we  understand  each  other  fully. 
You  are  a  clever  woman.  You  will  not  try  to  deny  the 
facts. 

Hauteville.  Not  one  solitary  thing.  I  am  most 
anxious  that  you  should  try  to  find  out  all'. 

Stroebel.  Bravo !  I  came  near  saying  that  I  re- 
spect you  for  that.  [Benevolently. '\  You  know,  Hoch- 
Stetter,  every  man  is  liable  to  make  a  fool  of  himself  now 
and  then. 

Hauteville.  Indeed  they  are!  I  know  best  what 
fools  men  do  make  of  themselves. 

Stroebel.  Now  and  then  people  violate  the  law. 
But  they  ought  not  to  deny  it  afterwards.  That's  the 
sad  part  of  it,  because  we  always  find  out  the  truth  in 
the  end. 

Hauteville.     I  wish  you  had  it  now. 

Stroebel.  We  have  a  clue.  But  you  are  a  woman  of 
character,  I  admit.     I  take  off  my  hat  to  you. 

Hauteville.     Indeed ! 

Stroebel.     I  certainly  do. 

Hauteville.  I  was  afraid  I  had  lost  all  refinement 
after  spending  the  last  two  nights  in  such  company. 

Stroebel  [henevolently'\.  No  doubt,  it  was  a  trifle 
hard. 

Hauteville.  It  was  terrible.  They  really  do  make 
me  pay  for  discreetness. 

Stroebel.  Your  patrons  are  the  very  men  who  make 
it  so  hard  for  you.  They  get  you  into  trouble  and  then 
expect  you  to  protect  them.     Isn't  it  so.'' 


42  "Moral" 

Hauteville.  What  an  experience  for  me !  To  have 
my  apartment  raided  at  night  and  be  simply  dragged 
away  myself. 

Stroebel.     That  is  too  much. 

Hauteville.  I  was  not  even  allowed  to  take  along  a 
change  of  underwear.  Then  I  am  locked  up  with  women 
who  have  every  known  variety  of  vermin. 

Stroebel.  And  with  all  that  they  expect  you  to  re- 
main silent ! 

Hauteville.  When  I  want  to  comb  my  hair,  the  ma- 
tron gives  me  a  comb  which  these  women  have  been  using 
a  whole  week. 

Stroebel.      That  simply  can't  go  on. 

Hauteville.  And  the  air!  I  never  knew  that  such 
odors  existed  on  this  earth. 

Stroebel.  Still  you  are  to  shield  the  others !  After 
all,  you  know,  I  think  that  discreetness  is  just  talk. 

Hauteville.     Talk.'' 

Stroebel.  I  mean  if  anybody  ever  had  a  moral  right 
to  give  things  away,  fully  and  freely,  you  are  that  per- 
son ;   .   .   .   after  all  you  have  suffered. 

Hauteville.     That's  right.     I  am  that  person. 

Stroebel.  Well  then;  did  somebody  escape  into  that 
wardrobe  ? 

Hauteville.  Yes,  somebody  did  escape  into  that 
wardrobe. 

Stroebel   [eagerly^.     Who?      [Short  pause.'\ 

Hauteville   [laughs  curtly'].     Who? 

Stroebel  [more  sharply].  Who  on  Saturday  night 
at  10  o'clock  escaped  the  search  of  the  police  by  hiding 
in  the  wardrobe? 

Hauteville  [laughs  curtly].  It  is  quite  unnecessary 
for  me  to  tell  you  that. 

Stroebel  [sharply].     Why? 

Hauteville.  You  are  certain  to  find  it  out  ulti- 
mately. 


"Moral"  43 

Stroebel.     Ultimately? 

Hauteville.  Even  if  I  wanted  to  I  could  not  tell! 
Lord,  when  a  person  gets  strictly  accustomed  to  never 
mentioning  any  name,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  do  it.  I, 
believe  that  I  would  have  to  learn  how  first. 

Stroebel  [shouting].  And  you  will  learn  it;  I  prom- 
is  you  that.     You  .  .  . 

Hauteville.     Mais  Monsieure! 

Stroebel  [shouting].  No  "Monsieur"  about  it. 
Here  you'll  talk  good  plain  English. 

Hauteville.     But  why  are  you  getting  so  excited? 

Stroebel  [to  Reisacher].  I  am  nice  to  this  person. 
I  reason  with  her,  and  she  says  that  she  will  first  have 
to  learn  how  to  expose  her  crowd.  [Shouts.]  Decency 
is  what  you'll  have  to  learn  and  I'll  teach  it  to  you. 

Hauteville.     Oh,  not  this  very  minute. 

Stroebel.  I  know  you.  I  know  your  sort!  You 
want  to  gain  time  so  that  you  can  concoct  the  blackest 
lies. 

Hauteville  [calmly].  That  would  be  entirely. su- 
perfluous. The  cleverest  lie  could  not  help  me  half  as 
much  as  the  simple  truth. 

Stroebel.     Out  with  it! 

Hauteville.  It's  better  if  you  find  it  out  through 
someone  else. 

Stroebel.     That's  your  opinion. 

Hauteville.  You  would  only  be  embarrassed  and  I 
would  be  guilty  of  a  breach  of  confidence. 

Stroebel  [with  contempt].  As  though  people  con- 
fided in  such  as  you. 

Hauteville.  I  think  that  they  rely  upon  the  fact 
that  our  loyalty  is  not  "just  talk." 

Stroebel  [again  calm].  Listen  to  me.  I  do  not 
think  that  you  entirely  understand  your  position. 
[Hauteville  shrugs  her  shoulders.]  No,  I  don't  think 
that  you  know  at  all  vfhat  is  involved. 


44  "Moral" 

Hauteville.  On  the  contrary  it  is  far  worse  that 
you  don't  seem  to  realize  who  is  involved. 

Stroebel  [quickly].      In  what? 

Hauteville.      In  the  wardrobe. 

Stroebel.  Have  you  lost  your  senses?  You  are  a 
prisoner  here.     Do  you  want  to  poke  fun  at  us  ? 

Hauteville.     No. 

Stroebel.  Then  don't  consider  yourself  so  impor- 
tant with  those  meaning  insinuations. 

Hauteville.  If  I  did,  I'd  soon  lose  my  importance 
after  eating  that  yellow  broth  from  those  rusty  tin 
plates. 

Stroebel.     And  that  will  continue  for  some  time. 

Hauteville  [energetically].  No,  it  will  not.  I  tell 
you  right  now  that  I  will  not  spend  another  night  in  that 
dirty  hole.     I  will  not  be  mistreated  any  longer. 

Stroebel  [with  sarcasm].  Of  course  we  are  going 
to  ask  you  for  your  kind  permission. 

Hauteville.  I  will  not  remain  here.  If  they  think 
I  will  let  them  ruin  me,  they're  very  much  mistaken. 
This  is  an  outrage  and  here  fair  play  stops. 

Stroebel.     The  likes  of  you  and  fair  play ! 

Hauteville  [bitterly].  Yes,  the  likes  of  me.  Every 
day  we  hear  the  confessions  of  those  very  people  who 
publicly  show  contempt  for  us.  We  know  how  false  are 
all  virtuous  words  with  which  they  condemn  us,  but  we 
remain  silent. 

Stroebel.  Of  course,  you  do  all  this  out  of  pure 
sense  of  fair  play?  He  imitates  the  motion  of  counting 
m,oney.] 

Hauteville.  Money?  .  .  .  My  dear  fellow,  with 
money  our  patrons  pay  well  for  that  very  thing  which 
they  later  on  call  indecent.  You  get  as  much  decency 
from  us  for  money  as  you  get  from  other  people,  but  be- 
lieve me,  we  could  shatter  many  illusions. 

Stroebel.     Well,  make  a  beginning  right  here. 


"Moral"  45 

Hauteville.  It  ought  to  be  impossible  here.  The 
police  have  as  few  illusions  as  we.  That  is,  provided 
they  are  properly  instructed. 

Stroebel.  That's  right  now,  put  us  in  the  same 
class  with  yourself. 

Hauteville.  Why  not.''  We  and  the  police  could 
easily  ruin  the  credit  of  virtue,  but  neither  of  us  do  it. 
You  —  you  because  you  regard  that  credit  as  a  good  sub- 
stitute for  the  principal,  and  we, —  Lord,  because  we 
need  this  credit  as  well. 

Stroebel.     Both  of  us? 

Hauteville.  The  very  moment  that  public  virtue 
loses  its  credit,  the  secret  vices  will  drop  in  market  value. 

Stroebel.     What  are  you  talking  about  anyway  ? 

Hauteville.  I'm  telling  you  why  both  of  us  must 
hush  things  up. 

Stroebel.  Then  you  are  not  convinced  that  there  is 
a  real  public  morality? 

Hauteville.  You  mean  that  morality  which  you  put 
on  with  your  street  clothes?  I  know  it  well.  Gentle- 
men take  it  off  in  my  apartment  and  hang  it  up  in  my 
wardrobe,  and  there  I  can  inspect  it  very  thoroughly. 
It  is  truly  remarkable  how  our  respected  gentlemen  still 
make  formal  social  visits  in  costumes  which  have  so 
often  been  patched. 

Reisacher  [who  up  to  this  point  apparently  without 
paying  any  attention,  has  been  sitting  with  his  back  to- 
ward them,  turns  half  way  round].  Pardon  me,  Herr 
Assessor. 

Stroebel  [impatiently].     Now  what  do  you  want? 

Reisacher.  Pardon  me,  Herr  Assessor,  shall  I  put 
all  this  talk  into  the  minutes? 

Stroebel.  No,  I  will  dictate  to  you  later.  [To 
Hauteville.]  You  know  that  you  are  not  here  to  amuse 
yourself. 


46  "Moral" 

Hauteville.     I  know  that. 

Stroebel.  Listen  to  me  quietly.  You  hinted  before 
that  if  we  kept  you  here  another  night  you  would 
confess  everything.  Well  I  tell  you  here  and  now  that 
we  will  not  keep  you  here  one,  but  a  number  of  nights. 
You  can  ease  your  conscience  at  once. 

Hauteville.  I  would  only  make  yours  the  heavier 
for  it. 

Stroebel.     My  conscience? 

Hauteville.  Yes,  if  I  tell  you  here,  there  will  be  no 
possibility  of  a  mistake,  but  everything  must  remain  a 
mistake. 

Stroebel.  I  have  patience  with  you,  but  I  will  not 
let  you  fool  me.  Now  get  yourself  together  and  con- 
sider every  word.     What  must  remain  a  mistake? 

Hauteville.  Everything  that  has  happened  since 
Saturday  night. 

Stroebel.     All  that  must  remain  a  mistake? 

Hauteville.  It  simply  must  not  have  happened. 
No  one  broke  into  my  apartment.  No  one  arrested  me. 
No  one  compelled  anyone  to  hide  in  the  wardrobe. 

Stroebel  [shouts.'\  And  no  one  ever  saw  such  an  in- 
solent female. 

Hauteville.     This  browbeating. 

Stroebel.     It  is  meant  for  such  as  you. 

Hauteville  [indignantly  stopping  her  ears'].  It  re- 
minds one  so  much  of  the  tin  plates  and  the  comb. 

Stroebel  [angrily  pacing  the  room'].  I  never  heard 
anything  like  it.  Picture  it !  She  makes  insinuations 
as  though  we  had  something  to  be  afraid  of.  [He  stops 
pacing  and  faces  her.]  You  evidently  imagine  that  the 
whole  government  would  run  away  from  you. 

Hauteville.  No,  but  it  ran  away  from  your  Lieu- 
tenant. 

Stroebel.     Where? 

Hauteville.     Into  the  wardrobe. 


"Moral"  47 

Stroebel  [pacing  up  and  down'].  I  will  bring  that 
fellow  out  of  your  wardrobe.  I  will  bring  him  to  light. 
Into  bright  daylight!  [Remains  standing  in  front  of 
Hauteville.]     What  did  you  say? 

Hautevile.     Nan. 

Stroebel  [resuming  his  pacingl.  One  of  those  fine 
fellows  who  wallow  in  the  mire  and  then  expect  us  to 
make  exceptions.  [Stops  pacing,  facing  Hauteville. 1 
What  were  you  saying? 

Hauteville.     Nothing. 

Stroebel.  Sad  enough  that  now  and  again  a  half- 
way decent  person  strays  into  your  place. 

Hauteville.  He  can  only  regret  that  he  was  dis- 
turbed. 

Stroebel  [goes  quickly  to  desk  and  unlocks  a 
drawer].  Besides,  do  not  deceive  yourself.  We  do  not 
need  your  disclosures.  [He  takes  out  a  rather  bulky  pa- 
per, a  school  composition  book,  and  holds  it  triumphantly 
in  the  air.]      There;  do  you  recognize  this? 

Hauteville  [quietly,  without  a  single  trace  of  sur- 
prise].    It  looks  like  my  diary. 

Stroebel.  It  is  your  book.  It  was  found  in  your 
desk. 

Hauteville  [very  calm].     The  desk  was  locked. 

Stroebel.  It  was  broken  open.  Well?  What  about 
your  loyalty  now? 

Hauteville  [shrugs  her  shoulders].  I  kept  it.  I 
haven't  a  fire-proof  safe. 

Stroebel  [contemptuously].  Would  you  by  chance 
like  to  show  me  the  name? 

Hauteville.     What  name? 

Stroebel.     Of  the  gentleman  in  the  wardrobe. 

Hauteville   [laughs].     His  name  really  is  not  in  it. 

Stroebel.     Do  not  evade  but  show  me. 

Hauteville.  Oh,  there  are  parties  whose  names  are 
not  in  the  Hotel  Register.     They  travel  incognito. 


48  "Moral" 

Stroebel  \^persuadingly].  Hochstetter,  I  have  an 
impression  that  you  are  not  such  a  stupid  girl,  and  I 
believe  that  you  would  like  to  [pointing  to  the  diary^ 
take  good  care  of  your  —  patrons.  If  you  do  not  im- 
mediately reveal  the  name  of  that  man^  I  will  summon 
the  whole  bunch. 

Hauteville  [shrugs  her  shoulders^.  That's  some- 
thing I  cannot  stop  you  from  doing. 

Stroebel.     What  then  is  your  belief  in  fair  play? 

Hauteville.  I  never  submitted  that  diary  to  you. 
You  could  not  have  gotten  it  from  me  voluntarily,  but  it 
quite  suits  me  that  the  officer  found  it  in  my  desk. 

Stroebel.     Why? 

Hauteville.  Because  he  might  have  searched  for  it 
in  the  wardrobe. 

Stroebel.  Now  my  patience  is  at  an  end.  [Presses 
the  button  on  his  desk.]  I  will  have  no  consideration 
for  anyone. 

Hauteville.  After  all,  perhaps  you  will.  For 
yourself. 

[Police  officer  enters-l 

Stroebel.  Take  this  woman  downstairs.  [The  of- 
ficer leaves  with  Hauteville.  Stroebel  sits  down,  pushes 
the  chair  angrily  to  the  desk,  then  gets  up  and  throws 
the  diary  and  several  other  books  on  the  desk,  saying  to 
himself:]  Never  heard  anything  like  it!  Such  impu- 
dence ! 

[Reisacher  looks  at  him  with  amusement.     A   knock 

at  the  door.] 

Stroebel  [formally].     Come  in! 

Beermann  [enters  hastily  from  the  left.  He  breathes 
heavily.  He  has  a  handkerchief  in  his  hand,  with 
which  he  frequently  mops  his  brow].  Is  this  the  proper 
department  at  last?  I  am  being  sent  all  around  the 
building.  [Breathing  heavily.]  I  hope  I  am  finally  in 
the  proper  bureau. 


"Moral"  49 

Stroebel.     What  do  you  want? 

Beermann.  Pardon  me  for  a  moment  while  I  catch 
my  breath.  I  climbed  twice  to  the  third  floor  and  again 
down  to  the  ground  floor.  The  Commissioner  sent  me 
to  room  147  and  there  they  told  me  to  go  to  room  174. 

Stroebel.     Who  sent  you.'' 

Beermann  [taking  a  deep  breath].  The  Commis- 
sioner. I  really  wanted  to  speak  to  him  personally,  but 
he  told  me  I  should  go  to  the  gentleman  who  has  "  Mo- 
rality." Are  you  the  gentleman  who  has  all  the  moral- 
ity.? 

Stroebel.     Certainly. 

Beermann.  At  last.  [Mopping  his  brow.]  Good 
God,  when  a  matter  is  so  urgent  and  so  much  depends 
on  it  they  ought  not  to  chase  one  all  over  the  building. 
I  must  rest  a  bit.  All  this  excitement  and  running  up 
and  down  stairs.  ...  So  you  are  the  gentleman  who 
has  the  matter  in  hand. 

Stroebel.     What  matter? 

Beermann.  On  Saturday  night  a  lady  was  arrested. 
A  Madam  de  Hauteville,  and  certain  papers  were  taken 
from  her.     Have  you  those  papers  here? 

Stroebel.     What  business  is  that  of  yours? 

Beermann.  My  name  is  Beermann;  Fritz  Beermann, 
the  banker.  I  am  the  Chairman  of  the  Society  for  the 
Suppression  of  Vice. 

Stroebel  [very  politely].  Oh,  indeed!  Pardon  me  ! 
I  didn't  recall  your  name  immediately,  but  I  was  ex- 
pecting you. 

Beermann  [startled] .     You  —  were  expecting  —  me  ? 

Stroebel.  The  Commissioner  said  that  you  would 
undoubtedly  call  on  us. 

Beermann.  He  said  that  I  undoubtedly  would  call? 
But  he  never  mentioned  a  word  to  me  about  that,  and  I 
saw  him  just  a  moment  ago.  Perhaps  after  all  it  will 
be  better  if  I  go  down  to  see  him  again  ? 


50  "Moral" 

Stroebel.  That  is  not  necessary.  I  have  full  charge 
of  the  matter. 

Beermann.  Oh,  yes,  quite  right;  you  have  charge  of 
the  matter.     And  you  have  those  writings  here  too.'' 

Stroebel.  The  diary  .^  [He  indicates  the  desk.'\ 
Here  it  is. 

Beermann  [peeps  anxiously  over'\.  Then  it  is  a 
regular  diary? 

Stroebel.  Quite  correctly  kept.  Gives  date  and 
names.  Even  little  jesting  remarks  about  the  people 
concerned. 

Beermann  [shouts'].  But  that  is  an  unheard  of  inso- 
lence ! 

Stroebel.     Yes. 

Beermann.  Why  does  she  write  such  things.''  To 
what  purpose?  Can't  she  herself  realize  how  dangerous 
it  is?  Fancy,  a  woman  whose  whole  stock  in  trade  is 
secrecy,  keeping  an  address  book  of  her  patrons.  Con- 
found her ! 

Stroebel.     But  to  us  as  evidence  it  is  priceless. 

Beermann.  I  ask  you  —  why  does  she  record  such 
things  ? 

Stroebel.  We  can  only  be  glad  of  it,  Herr  Beer- 
mann. 

Beermann.     We? 

Stroebel.  She'd  lie.  I  tell  you  she'd  deny  every- 
thing, and  that  puts  an  end  to  the  case.  [Holding  the 
diary  in  the  air.']     But  here  we  have  the  whole  bunch. 

Beermann.  As  though  she  wanted  to  turn  State's 
evidence.   .  . 

Stroebel.  Let  her  just  come  to  court  with  her  con- 
founded fine  talk.  [Imitating  Hauteville's  manners:] 
"  It  simply  must  not  have  happened."  I  will  drive  her 
to  the  wall  with  what  happened.  We  will  simply  bring 
up  those  fellows,  one  after  the  other. 

Beermann  [dismayed].     To  court! 


"Moral"  51 

Stroebel.  Certainly,  and  that  means;  hand  on  the 
Bible  and  swear.  Then  we  shall  see  if  "  no  one  com- 
pelled anyone  to  hide  in  the  wardrobe." 

Beermann.     How? 

Stroebel.     They  will  not  commit  perjury. 

Beermann.     That's  utterly  impossible ! 

Stroebel.  I  will  make  it  quite  warm  for  that  man,  in 
any  event. 

Beermann.     But,  Counselor! 

Stroebel  [clinking  heels'].     Assessor  Stroebel. 

Beermann.  But,  Assessor,  that  is  simply  impossible. 
You  do  not  want  to  ruin  the  family  life  of  the  entire  city, 
do  you? 

Stroebel.     In  what  way? 

Beermann.  Do  you  expect  a  respectable  gentleman 
to  appear  in  court  and  in  the  presence  of  all  people  to 
say,  yes;  it  is  true  that  I  .  .  .  and  so  forth? 

Stroebel.     Why  not? 

Beermann  [shouting].  But  they  are  all  respectable 
fathers  of  families ! 

Stroebel.  But,  my  dear  Herr  Beermann,  what  dif- 
ference does  that  make  to  me  ? 

Beermann.  It  must  make  a  difference.  It  makes  a 
difference  to  everybody  at  all  times. 

Stroebel.  I  assure  you  that  I  am  not  a  bit  senti- 
mental. 

Beermann  [glancing  over  to  Reisacher].  Could  we 
have  a  few  words  together,  alone  ? 

Stroebel.  If  you  wish  it.  Reisacher,  finish  your 
police  report  in  the  outer  office. 

Reisacher.     Certainly,  Herr  Assessor. 

[Takes  several  sheets  of  paper  and  goes  out  through 
the  middle  door.] 

Stroebel.     Do  have  a  seat,  Herr  Beermann. 

[Beermann  sits  down  on  the  sofa.  Stroebel  does  like- 
wise.] 


52  "Moral" 

Beermann    [mopping   his   brow].     A  personal  ques- 
tion, Herr  Assessor,  are  you  married? 

Stroebel.     No. 

Beermann.  I  thought  not.  If  you  had  a  family  you 
would  not  speak  in  that  fashion  of  sentimentality. 

Stroebel.  If  I  had  a  family,  I  would  not,  to  begin 
with,  be  involved  in  this. 

Beermann.     But  .  .  . 

Stroebel.  My  name  would  not  appear  in  the  diary 
of  Hauteville. 

Beermann.     You  never  can  tell. 

Stroebel.  Excuse  me.  What  is  there  left  of  family 
life  when  such  things  happen.^ 

Beermann.  What  do  you  mean?  If  nobody  finds  it 
out? 

Stroebel.  But  such  a  man  must  live  constantly  un- 
der a  deception. 

Beermann.  My  dear  Assessor.  If  the  white  lie 
ceases  in  married  life,  the  couple  drifts  apart. 

Stroebel.     I  cannot  believe  that ! 

Beermann  [persuadingly'].  Take  my  word  for  it. 
In  every  happy  marriage  the  parties  lie  to  each  other  to 
keep  their  affection  from  cooling. 

Stroebel.     But  both  of  them  remain  faithful. 

Beermann.     Not  in  the  least. 

Stroebel.      Don't  say  that ! 

Beermann.  Not  in  the  least ;  anyhow  not  to  the  very 
letter.  A  husband  is  true  to  his  wife  even  if  he  .  .  . 
and  so  forth. 

Stroebel.     Your  views  surprise  me. 

Beermann.  This  is  what  I  mean.  He  is  true  in 
his  own  fashion.  He  remains  kind  to  his  wife,  takes 
a  good  care  of  his  family,  and  that  is  the  principal 
thing.  That  other  which  you  have  in  mind  is  only  an 
ideal. 

Stroebel.     Ideals  are  lived  up  to. 


"Moral"  53 

Beermann.  Well,  yes.  But  if  we  don't  live  up  to 
them,  we  at  least  respect  them, 

Stroebel.  Herr  Beermann,  I  am  astounded.  You 
are  the  President  of  the  Society  for  the  Suppression  of 
Vice.? 

Beermann.     Can  I  help  it  that  I  was  elected? 

Stroebel.  But  at  least  you  represent  the  views  of 
your  Society.     I  thought  you  came  here  for  that  reason. 

Beermann.     For  what  reason? 

Stroebel.  To  express  your  satisfaction  at  our  dis- 
covery of  the  business  of  this  person. 

Beermann.  You  thought  I  came  here  on  that  ac- 
count ? 

Stroebel.     Didn't  you? 

Beermann  [mopping  his  brow  with  his  handkerchief]. 
You'll  have  to  pardon  me,  Herr  Assessor;  I  am  still 
affected  by  that  running  up  and  down  stairs. 

Stroebel.     Perhaps  our  conversation  tires  you? 

Beermann.  Don't  mention  it.  I  simply  cannot  fol- 
low you  so  quickly.  A  moment  ago  you  mentioned  a 
diary,  didn't  you? 

Stroebel.     Of  this  Hauteville  woman. —     Yes. 

Beermann.     Have  you  been  through  this  diary? 

Stroebel.     No.     I  have  not  had  time  yet. 

Beermann.  But  you  just  spoke  about  some  jesting 
comments  in  it. 

Stroebel.     Only  those  I  noticed  in  glancing  through 

it. 

Beermann  [relieved].     Ah! 

Stroebel.  Besides,  I  must  tell  you,  Herr  Beermann, 
that  the  contents  of  this  book  must  remain  a  secret  to 
you.     My  orders  are  not  to  show  it  to  anyone. 

Beermann.  No,  no.  I  don't  want  to  know  anything 
about  it. 

Stroebel.  You  will  find  out  everything  later  when 
the  matter  comes  up  in  court. 


54  "Moral" 

Beermann  [dismayed'^.     Will  it  be  read  there? 

Stroebel.  Certainly.  To-day  I  can  only  tell  you 
that  we  will  proceed  vigorously.  You  can  satisfy  your 
society  on  that  point. 

Beermann   [rising].     But  that  doesn't  satisfy  me  at. 
all.     Think  of  the  consequences. 

Stroebel  [rising  also].  What  do  you  care  about  the 
consequences.  Your  society  has  its  very  high  aims. 
Your  propaganda  states  that  you  will  prosecute  the  out- 
cast of  society  with  iron  energy  and  now  you  see  your 
ideals  realized. 

Beermann.  Our  propaganda  states  that  we  will  in- 
tervene from  national,  moral  and  social  viewpoints,  to 
protect  the  marriage  vows.  If  this  scandal  becomes 
public  the  marriage  relationship  will  be  undermined. 

Stroebel.  What  sort  of  moral  viewpoint  do  you  call 
that.? 

Beermann.  It  is  the  Society's.  Don't  you  under- 
stand that  the  influential  class  of  society  will  be  in- 
volved ! 

Stroebel.  Then  that  class  will  have  only  itself  to 
blame. 

Beermann.  That's  out  of  the  question.  We  must 
find  a  loop-hole. 

Stroebel.  Within  the  scope  of  the  law  there  are  no 
loop-holes. 

Beermann.  Don't  tell  me  that.  Well  then,  go 
around  the  law. 

Stroebel  [surprised],     Herr  Beermann! 

Beermann.  Of  course !  I  have  lived  long  enough  to 
know  that. 

Stroebel.     I  shall  do  my  duty. 

Beermann.  Am  I  interfering  with  your  duty?  I 
belong  to  that  class  of  people  who  respect  the  police 
only  because  the  police  respect  our  social  position. 

Stroebel.     I  appreciate  that. 


"Moral"  55 

Beermann.  I  also  take  part  in  political  life.  I  am 
a  candidate  for  the  Reichstag  and  as  such  I  have  a  de- 
cided opinion  about  these  matters. 

Stroebel.     Without  doubt,  Herr  Beermann. 

Beermann.  Well  then,  there  are,  in  extreme  cases, 
ways  around  the  law,  and  there  must  be. 

Stroebel.     I  am  of  a  different  opinion. 

Beermann.  God  knows,  it  is  not  the  business  of  the 
police  to  provoke  this  enormous  scandal.  All  authority- 
will  be  destroyed.  It  will  shatter  the  respect  of  the 
masses  for  the  people  higher  up. 

Stroebel.  But  this  scandal  was  provoked — [knock- 
ing on  the  diary  with  his  finger'^  —  by  these  very  people. 

Beermann.  If  a  man  once  in  a  while  goes  into  a 
certain  room  —  that  is  no  scandal.  It  only  becomes  a 
scandal  when  the  story  is  made  known  to  every  Tom, 
Dick  and  Harry.     That's  what  must  be  prevented ! 

Stroebel.  I  value  the  humane  motive  which  evi- 
dently is  prompting  you,  Herr  Beermann.  But  you 
must  admit  that  we  are  acting  entirely  in  accord  with  the 
views  of  the  classes  you  mention. 

Beermann.     You  are  not! 

Stroebel.  Yes,  we  are.  Two  weeks  ago  the  good 
people  here  founded  a  Society  because  they  felt  it  was 
necessary  to  proceed  more  severely  against  public  im- 
morality .  .  . 

Beermann.  .  .  .  Against  immorality  in  the  lower 
strata  where  it  easily  degenerates  into  licentiousness. 
As  the  President  of  this  Society,  I,  at  least  ought  to 
know  what  was  intended. 

Stroebbl.  Even  Frau  Hochstetter  belongs  to  the 
lower  strata.  If  we  are  now  stepping  on  anybody's 
.corns,  I  am  very  sorry,  .  .  . 

Beermann.  The  police  have  no  business  to  do  any- 
thing they  will  be  sorry  for  later  on.  Good  Lord,  had 
the  Commissioner  only  listened  to  me.     An  affair  like 


5Q  "Moral" 

this  should  not  be  treated  in  such  a  purely  business-like 
way. 

Stroebel.  The  Commissioner  can  only  tell  you  the 
same  thing.     He  cannot  change  the  law. 

Beermann.     Anything  can  be  done. 

Stroebel.  Not  at  this  stage.  We  could  probably 
have  prevented  it  had  we  known  that  this  case  would 
have  such  far-reaching  consequences,  but  now  here  are 
the  proofs.  [^Pointing  to  the  diary. '\  No  one  in  the 
world  can  destroy  them,  not  even  the  Commissioner. 

Beermann.  Then  what  do  you  propose  to  do  with 
them? 

Stroebel.  They  are  going  down  to  the  District  At- 
torney's office.     The  avalanche  is  on  its  way. 

Beermann.  And  we  have  simply  to  wait  and  watch 
what  it  hits.''      [^Telephone  hell  rings. '\ 

Stroebel.     Pardon  me  a  moment. 

[Goes  to  the  right  to  the  telephone.  While  Stroebel 
is  answering  the  telephone,  and  has  his  back  to  Beer- 
mann the  latter  crosses  to  the  desk  and  tries  to  look 
into  the  diary.  Timidly  he  opens  it  several  times  but 
shuts  it  again  quickly,  when  he  fears  that  Stroebel  will 
turn  around.^ 

Stroebel  [^answering  the  telephone"].  Police  De- 
partment. .  .  .  Assessor  Stroebel  speaking.  Who  is 
this  please  .  .  .  yes,  this  is  Assessor  Stroebel.  .  .  . 
Yes,  Commissioner  .  .  .  [pause]  I  understand  you, 
I  will  remain  in  the  office  .  .  .  Yes,  I  examined  the 
Hochstetter  woman.  .  .  .  Yes,  this  Madame  Hauteville 
.  .  .  [pause]  I  will  remain  in  the  office  until  you  call. 
.  .  .  Yes,  Commissioner.  Good-bye.  [He  hangs  up 
the  receiver.] 

Beermann.  [Energetically  closes  the  book  and  tries 
to  appear  indifferent.] 

Stroebel.     Now    you    can   convince    yourself,    Herr 


"Moral"  57 

Beermann,  the  Commissioner  himself  is  following  up  this 
matter.  He  wants  to  have  another  conference  with  me 
about  it  to-day. 

Beermann.  Am  I  to  wait  helplessly  until  the  catas- 
trophe happens? 

Stroebel.     You  must  be  consistent.  .  .  . 

Beermann.  It  is  possible  that  my  best  friends,  ac- 
quaintances  or  relatives  are  involved  .  .  . 

Stroebel.  You  must  remain  consistent.  Doesn't 
this  splendidly  justify  the  founding  of  your  Society.^ 

Beermann  [in  a  rage'\.  Oh,  leave  me  alone  with  your 
stupid  Vice  Society.     Are  we  not  all  human,  after  all ! 

Stroebel.     I  do  not  understand  you. 

Beermann.  Do  you  realize  what  severe  pangs  of 
conscience  I  suffer.''  Last  night  as  I  pictured  to  myself 
all  that  is  about  to  happen,  all  these  family  misfortunes, 
I  asked  myself  this  question:  What  really  is  morality.'' 
And  ...  I  could  not  find  the  answer. 

Stroebel.     Although  you  are  .  .  . 

Beermann.  Although  I  am  Chairman  of  the  Society 
for  the  Suppression  of  Vice,  yes,  sir.  Then  I  asked  my- 
self this:  which  is  the  more  important:  that  we  are 
moral,  or  that  we  seem  moral? 

Stroebel.     Have  you  found  the  answer? 

Beermann.  I  have.  I  have  become  fully  convinced 
that  it  is  far  more  important  for  the  people  to  believe  in 
our  morality. 

Stroebel.     But  you  didn't  need  a  Society  for  that. 

Beermann.  Yes,  we  did.  Just  to  be  moral  is  some- 
thing that  I  can  accomplish  in  my  room  by  myself,  but 
that  has  no  educational  value.  The  important  thing  is 
to  ally  one's  self  publicly  with  moral  issues.  This  has 
a  beneficial  effect  on  the  family  and  state. 

Stroebel.  I  daresay  that  this  side  of  the  question 
has  not  occurred  to  me. 

Beermann.     Just   consider.     Morality  holds   exactly 


58  "Moral" 

the  same  position  as  religion.  We  must  always  create 
the  impression  that  there  is  such  a  thing  and  we  must 
make  each  other  believe  that  each  of  us  have  it.  Do  you 
suppose  for  one  moment  that  religion  would  last  if 
the  church  dealt  publicly  with  our  sins.''  But  she  for- 
gives them  quietly.  The  State  ought  to  be  just  as 
shrewd. 

Stroebel.     Many  a  thing  you  say  seems  quite  true. 

Beermann.     It  is  true^  you  can  depend  upon  it. 

Stroebel.  Theoretically  perhaps.  But  that  docs 
not  change  it  one  bit.  As  long  as  the  law  prescribes  it, 
these  offenses  [pointing  to  the  diary]  must  be  dealt  with 
publicly. 

Beermann.  Although  you  know  that  thus  public  de- 
cency will  be  undermined.  [Stroebel  shrugs  his  shoul- 
ders.]    Although  the  State  will  suffer  by  it.'' 

Stroebel  [again  shrugs  his  shoulders].     Well  .  .  . 

Beermann.  The  Administration  knows  very  well  the 
sort  of  conservative  element  there  is  in  the  Society  for 
the  Suppression  of  Vice. 

Stroebel.     Yes,  and  values  it  highly. 

Beermann.  Let  us  suppose  —  I  do  not  know  if  it  be 
so  —  but  let  us  just  suppose  that  only  one  member  of 
the  Society  once  had  a  weak  little  moment  and  his  name 
were  in  this  book  .  .  . 

Stroebel  [energetically].  Then  he  would  be  sum- 
moned to  court  without  regard  or  mercy. 

Beermann.  And  the  whole  Society  would  be  made 
ridiculous  and  would  go  up  in  the  air. 

Stroebel  [shrugs  his  shoulders].     Well  .  .  . 

Beermann   [shouts].     That  is  the  height  of  folly,  I 

tell  you! 

Stroebel  [instructively].  It  is  the  fulfilment  of  our 
duty.  You  are  a  layman.  With  you  sentiments  play  an 
important  part.  We,  the  police,  on  the  other  hand  are 
compelled  to  sacrifice  our  feelings  to  our  duty. 


"Moral"  59 

Beermann  [holding  his  hands  to  his  ears].  Oh,  stop 
that ! 

Stroebel.     Official  duty  blocks  our  way. 

Beermann  [angrily'].  But  even  a  jackass  can  jump 
over  blocks. 

Stroebel  [offended].  Herr  Beermann,  I  did  not 
hear  that  remark. 

Beermann.  Let  me  tell  you  something!  Do  you 
know  what  we  have  been  doing  for  the  past  three  weeks  ^ 
.  .  .  Talking  ourselves  hoarse  in  order  to  bring  about  an 
election  friendly  to  the  present  administration.  For  the 
past  three  weeks  it  has  been  nothing  but  Fatherland,  and 
the  state  and  religion !  And  this  is  your  gratitude !  In 
the  devil's  own  name — just  picture  it  to  yourself  —  a 
man  who  has  been  fighting  the  opposition  in  thirty  dif- 
ferent political  meetings  might  be  involved  in  this. 

Stroebel  [shrugs  his  shoulders].     What  can  I  do? 

Beermann.  Is  the  Administration  going  to  deliver 
him  over  to  his  opponents  ? 

Stroebel.  We  would  be  very  sorry  for  him,  but  we 
would  have  to  summon  him  to  court. 

Beermann.  Without  regard  or  mercy — .^  [Tele- 
phone bell  rings  loudly.] 

Stroebel.  Pardon  me  for  a  moment.  [Stroebel  goes 
to  the  telephone  and  this  time  he  turns  completely  around 
so  that  his  back  is  toward  Beermann.]  Police  Depart- 
ment .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  Commissioner;  this  is  Stroebel  at 
the  telephone.  .  .  .  [Short  pause.]  When  she  was  ar- 
rested.'' .  .  .  When  she  was  arrested  there  was  Lieuten- 
ant Schmuttermaier  and  an  officer.  .  .  .  [Short  pause.] 
Just  one  policeman.  .  .  [Pause.]  .  .  .  Yes,  Commis- 
sioner [short  pause]  I  should  tell  that  Lieutenant 
[short  interruption]  jackass  Schmuttermaier  to  come 
over  to  the  office  immediately.  .  .  .  [Short  pause.]  I 
shall  wait  for  you  until  you  come.  .  .  .  Yes,  Commis- 
sioner. 


60  "Moral" 

[During  this  telephone  conversation  Beermann  steps 
near  to  the  desk.  With  a  shaking  hand  he  takes  up  the 
diary  hut  quickly  puts  it  down  again.  Then  he  picks  it 
up  again  and  with  a  rapid  and  energetic  movement  puts 
it  into  his  breast  pocket.  Stroebel  with  a  rebuked  de- 
meanor goes  from  the  telephone  to  the  desk.  Beermann 
turns  around  so  that  Stroebel  cannot  see  his  face.  He 
is  disturbed  and  coughs  in  order  to  hide  his  embarrass- 
ment.    Stroebel  presses  a  button  on  Reisacher's  desk.'\ 

Beermann  [while  coughing'].  I  realize  now  that 
nothing  more  can  be  done.     I  shan't  take  up  your  time. 

Stroebel  [anxiously].  No,  no,  please  remain.  The 
Commissioner  himself  will  be  here  in  a  moment.  Then 
you  may  talk  to  him. 

Beermann.  But  you  just  told  me  that  there  was  no 
use  waiting.  .  .  .  [Reisacher  enters  through  center 
door.] 

Stroebel  [urgently  to  Reisacher],  Reisacher,  go 
and  look  for  Lieutenant  Schmuttermaier  immediately. 
If  he  is  not  in  the  building,  send  to  his  home  or  tele- 
phone for  him.  Leave  word  that  he  must  come  over  im- 
mediately. 

Reisacher.     Yes,  Herr  Assessor. 

[Goes  out  quickly  through  center  door.] 

Beermann.  You  said  yourself  that  there  would  be 
no  use.     I  guess  I'd  better  go. 

Stroebel  [perturbed].  But  do  wait  for  the  Commis- 
sioner. 

Beermann.  There  is  no  use  in  my  waiting.  I  .  .  . 
I  did  all  I  could  .  .  .  there  seems  to  be  no  use  .  .  . 
well  then.  .   .  .  Good-bye ! 

[About   to  go   through   door  on  left   but   the   door  is 


"Moral"  61 

quickly  opened  and  the  Commissioner  appears  with  Baron 
Schmettau.  The  former  holds  the  door  open  for  the 
Baron.     After  they  have  come  in,  he  shuts  the  door.] 

Commissioner  [to  the  Baron],  If  you  please,  Herr 
Baron.  .  .  .  [To  Beermann],  Ah  .  .  ,  here  is  our 
President  of  the  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Vice. 
[Beermann  bows  slightly  —  Commissioner  continuing 
contemptuously.]  Well,  have  you  accomplished  your 
mission.''  [Beermann  nods.]  Are  you  satisfied  with 
this  arrest  or  would  you  like  to  have  us  do  more?  \_An- 
grily.]  Once  for  all.  Sir,  I  forbid  you  to  meddle  with 
the  affairs  of  this  office.  You  can  preach  your  princi- 
ples wherever  else  you  like,  but  here  I  will  stand  for  no 
interference.  [Beermann  timidly  creeps  along  the  wall, 
and  bows  himself  out.]  [Commissioner  to  Baron 
Schmettau.]  Whenever  the  police  bungle  anything,  look 
for  reformers. 

Schmettau  ^with  a  glance  at  Stroebel].  Will  you 
introduce  me? 

Commissioner.  Assessor  Stroebel, —  Freiherr  von 
Schmettau,  Adjutant  to  his  Highness,  Prince  Emil. 
[Stroebel  clicks  his  heels  together  and  bows  deeply. 
Schmettau  thanks  him  curtly.] 

Commissioner  [sharply].  Herr  Assessor,  I  have 
asked  Herr  Baron  Schmettau  to  come  with  me  in  order 
that  in  his  presence  I  might  correct  a  pitiable  lack 
of  tact,  which  to  my  regret,  and  contrary  to  all  my 
intentions,  was  perpetrated  by  Lieutenant  Schmutter- 
maier. 

Schmettau.     It  was  abominable. 

Commissioner.     What  orders  did  that  man  have? 

Stroebel  [nervously].  Do  you  mean  in  the  case  of 
Hochstetter,  Commissioner  ? 

Commissioner.  Yes,  sir,  Madame  de  Hauteville. 
Who  made  the  raid  on  her  apartment? 


62  "Moral" 

Stroebel.     The  raid? 

Commissioner.  I  hope  before  you  arrested  her  you 
informed  yourself  exactly  with  whom  you  were  dealing. 

Stroebel.     Certainly  .  .  . 

Commissioner.     .  .  .  And  the  result.'' 

Stroebel.  I  ascertained  that  this  woman  was  violat- 
ing public  decency. 

Commissioner.  I  am  going  to  ask  you,  Assessor, 
as  my  inferior  in  office,  to  confine  yourself  to  more 
direct  answers,  please.  What  did  the  investigation  dis- 
close ? 

Stroebel.  That  she  received  questionable  visits  from 
gentlemen. 

Commissioner.  Questionable?  Then  does  Schmut- 
termaier  know  who  these  gentlemen  were? 

Stroebel.     He  does  not  .  .  . 

Commissioner.  No?  Didn't  he  investigate  a  matter 
which  seemed  so  questionable  to  him? 

Stroebel.  He  just  wanted  to  ascertain  that  these 
visits  were  meant  for  Hauteville. 

Commissioner.  So — ?  I  have  some  truly  competent 
officials.  And  who  and  what  it  was  did  not  bother  the 
man  at  all  ? 

Stroebel.  I  myself  thought  that  that  would  be 
found  out  later. 

Commissioner.  There  are  certain  things  in  the  world 
you  would  not  be  likely  to  look  for  and  less  likely  to 
find.  You  have  been  treating  this  thing  as  though  you 
were  dealing  with  a  common  ordinary  pickpocket.  [To 
Baron  Schmettau.]  You  see  it  is  just  as  I  told  you  .  .  . 
the  man  did  not  have  the  slightest  idea.  ...  [To  Stroe- 
bel.] Did  this  fellow,  Schmuttermaier,  see  anyone  in 
the  flat  or  did  he  hear  if  anyone  was  there  ? 

Stroebel.     No,  Commissioner. 

Commissioner  [to  Baron  Schmettau].  It  is  just  as  I 
told  you.  .  .  . 


"Moral"  63 

Stroebel.  Furthermore,  I  have  heard  since  that 
there  was  somebody  in  the  apartment. 

Commissioner  [quickly^.     Who? 

Stroebel.  That,  I  have  been  unable  to  find  out  yet, 
but  Hauteville  made  several  insinuations  as  though  some- 
one had  been  hidden  in  a  wardrobe. 

Commissioner  [to  Baron  SchmeUau\.  To  be  sure  — 
someone  —  was  —  To  my  profoundest  regret.  His 
Highness,  our  beloved  Hereditary  Prince  Emil. 

Stroebel  [crushed'\.  I  .  .  .  didn't  have  the  slight- 
est idea  .  .  . 

Commissioner.  You  people  ought  to  have  an  idea 
once  in  a  while.  If  this  Schmuttermaier  had  any  abil- 
ity, it  would  not  have  happened.  But  it  is  the  old  story, 
not  a  trace  of  independent  ability  and  tact. 

Stroebel.     I  don't  know  what  apology  I  can  offer. 

Commissioner.  Neither  do  I.  Besides  Herr  Baron 
Schmettau  himself  was  obliged  to  go  through  this  very 
unpleasant  incident. 

Schmettau.  .  [Schmettau  speaks  very  precisely  hut 
puts  a  slight  emphasis  on  his  «.]  I  was  completely  dum- 
founded.  I  cannot  understand  how  it  could  happen. 
Just  picture  it  .  .  .  Lord  knows  ...  I  was  and  am  of 
the  opinion  that  our  young  Highness  must  learn  to  know 
life.  Faith,  it  is  not  my  business  to  act  as  his  pas- 
tor. .  .  . 

Commissioner.  If  you  please,  Herr  Baron,  that  goes 
without  saying.  .  .  . 

Schmettau.  That  of  course  is  merely  my  opinion. 
I  am  a  man  of  the  world  and  of  affairs.  I  consider  it 
fitting  that  his  Highness  should  learn  to  know  life.  .  .  . 

Commissioner.     But  I  entirely  share  your  opinion. 

Schmettau.  A  moment  ago  the  word  "  decency " 
was  used.  In  my  position  I  can  listen  to  such  words 
from  the  pulpit,  but  outside  of  the  church  I  deem  them 
entirely  out  of  place. 


64  "Moral" 

Commissioner  [to  Assessor^  You  used  that  expres- 
sion. 

ScHMETTAu.  If  anjonc  wants  to  claim  that  my  bear- 
ing is  not  a  proper  one,  he  will  have  to  prove  it  with  a 
revolver  in  his  hand. 

Stroebel.  I  did  not  think  that  the  word  would  of- 
fend you. 

Schmettau.  It  did  offend  me.  Such  expressions 
are  fitting  in  an  asylum  for  feeble-minded  people.  They 
should  never  be  used  to  characterize  the  recreation  of 
Cavaliers. 

Commissioner.  May  I  put  in  a  good  word  for  my 
Assessor.^  It  certainly  was  not  his  intention  to  offend 
you. 

Schmettau.  It  was  not  his  intention.  [To  the  As- 
sessor.'\  Then  I  will  assume  that  it  was  never  said. 
[The  Assessor  clicks  his  heels. 1  I  am  somewhat  nettled 
but  you  cannot  be  surprised  at  that.  You  can  imagine 
with  what  care  I  undertook  this  task.  This  Madame  de 
Hauteville  was  recommended  to  me  by  reliable  parties. 
She  has  good  manners  and  does  not  talk. 

Commissioner.  In  her  way,  she  certainly  seems  a 
very  decent  person. 

Schmettau.  Absolutely.  Since  it  was  my  belief 
that  His  Highness  must  learn  to  know  life,  I  could  not 
find  a  better  place.  [To  the  Commissioner.]  We  un- 
derstand each  other? 

Commissioner.     Certainly. 

Schmettau.  Every  guarantee  against  vulgarity;  ev- 
erything tip-top.  Now  picture  it  to  yourself.  I  do  all 
a  man  possibly  can  and  this  inconceivably  awful  scandal 
happens. 

Commissioner.  It  is  the  old  story.  These  people 
have  no  tact. 

Schmettau.  That  doesn't  help  me  any.  I  am  not 
trying  to  mix  in  your  business.     That  never  occurred  to 


"Moral"  65 

me.  But  this  does  not  help  me  one  bit.  The  whole 
blame  attaches  to  me.  I  simply  will  be  told  that  such 
things  should  not  have  happened.  That  is  an  unheard 
of  business. 

Commissioner  [to  Assessor].  For  which  you  are  to 
blame. 

ScHMETTAtr.  Had  I  a  suspicion  that  this  was  con- 
templated, I  would  have  informed  you. 

Commissioner.     If  you  only  had! 

ScHMETTAU.  Who  would  think  of  such  things?  We 
all  take  it  for  granted  that  the  police  first  of  all  respect 
protection ! 

Stroebel.  On  my  word  of  honor,  Herr  Baron.  Not 
even  in  my  dreams  did  I  think  of  an  occurrence  like  this. 

Schmettau  [squares  his  shoulders].  Is  it  so  difficult 
for  you  to  think.'' 

Commissioner.  That's  just  what  I  say.  If  a  man 
knows  his  work  thoroughly  these  things  come  to  him. 
But  people  who  are  interested  in  the  uplift  movements 
are  always  in  the  clouds. 

Schmettau.  This  Lieutenant  or  whatever  that  fel- 
low was,  behaved  as  though  he  was  collecting  material 
for  a  socialist  newspaper.  His  Highness  was  hardly  in 
the  house  five  minutes  when  there  was  a  loud  ringing. 
Then  someone  in  heavy  shoes  ran  up  against  the  door 
like  a  drunken  sailor.  Madame  de  Hauteville  breaks 
into  the  room  and  cries,  "  Your  Highness,  how  unfortu- 
nate I  am.  The  police  are  here,"  she  says.  "  Leave 
them  alone,"  I  say,  "  they  will  go  away  presently." 
"  Impossible,"  she  says,  "  I  can  never  permit  His  High- 
ness to  be  found  by  the  police  in  my  place.  I  will 
take  the  blame  upon  myself  entirely."  Fancy  the  tact 
of  that  woman !  "  Impossible,"  she  says,  "  that  His 
Highness  should  be  caught  in  my  place." 

Commissioner.     Really,  very  decent! 

Schmettau.     Indeed    it    is.     Immediately    it    dawns 


66  "Moral" 

on  me  that  she  is  right.  The  situation  is  getting  terri- 
ble. That  policeman  is  likely  to  demand  His  Highness' 
identification.  What  shall  we  do.^  Madame  says,  "  For 
Heaven's  sake  hide  in  the  wardrobe !  "  Outside,  that 
fool  is  making  quite  a  rumpus.  He  knocks,  rings,  shouts 
and  barks.  The  neighborhood  is  getting  aroused  and 
heads  are  popping  out  from  right  and  left  and  in  the 
midst  of  this  terrible  commotion,  there  we  stand  — 
Highness  and  I.  What  shall  we  do?  A  few  moments 
later.  His  Highness  is  cramped  beside  me  in  the  ward- 
robe, in  between  different  pieces  of  woman's  apparel. 
With  great  difficulty  we  are  able  to  draw  our  breath. 

Stroebel.      If  I  had  only  had  an  inkling  about  it. 

Commissioner  [angrily].  The  police  are  expected  to 
grasp  conditions. 

ScHMETTAU.  Then  what  followed.^  In  heavy-nailed 
shoes  the  men  go  from  room  to  room.  Doors  are  opened 
and  slammed.  The  fellows  use  loud  and  coarse  lan- 
guage, and  three  or  four  times  they  stand  in  front  of  the 
wardrobe.  Upon  my  word,  I  actually  feel  how  His 
Highness  is  j>erspiring.  Just  picture  to  yourself  the  sit- 
uation if  that  brute  had  opened  the  closet!  Just  pic- 
ture that  and  you  can  realize  how  much  courage  I  had! 

Commissioner.     You  must  have  suffered  terribly. 

ScHMETTAu.  What  I  suffered  does  not  matter.  In 
such  moments  one  does  not  think  of  anything  else  but 
Highness.  What  an  outrage !  Finally  the  steps  dis- 
appear. Madame  Hauteville,  who  throughout  behaved 
most  decently  and  whose  conduct  was  above  reproach, 
is  led  away  and  Highness  and  I  can  leave  the  wardrobe 
where  we  spent  an  entire  twenty  minutes.  And  now  I 
ask  again,  "  How  can  such  mistakes  happen.''  " 

Commissioner  [to  Assessor].  You  shall  find  the  an- 
swer to  this. 

ScHMETTAu.  Up-stairs  the  woman  is  still  in  her  cell. 
The  newspapers  are  full  of  the  scandal,  and  Highness 


"Moral"  67 

suffers  agonies  when  he  realizes  the  possibilities  which 
can  develop  at  any  moment. 

Commissioner.  Herr  Baron^  you  need  not  worry  any 
longer.  Now  I  am  taking  the  matter  entirely  into  my 
hands.  [Consulting  his  watch,  he  speaks  with  affected 
calmness.]  It  is  now  a  quarter  to  one.  This  evening 
at  eight  o'clock  Madame  de  Hauteville  will  be  set  free 
and  everything  will  be  so  arranged  that  her  discharge 
will  arouse  no  suspicion. 

Stroebel.     But  how  are  you  going  to  do  it  .  .  .    ? 

Commissioner.  The  details  of  this  arrangement  are 
your  affair. 

CURTAIN 


ACT    III 

Beermann's  library.  Elegantly  furnished.  A  desk  is 
backed  up  against  a  large  bay-window  on  the  right. 
Opposite  is  a  large  book-case,  and  next  to  this  a  sofa. 
A  long  double  door  with  small  French  panes  somewhat 
to  the  left.  On  the  left  of  stage  a  small  table  and  a  few 
comfortable  leather  chairs.     On  the  right  a  simple  door. 

Beermann  enters  through  the  middle  door.  He  goes 
to  the  desk,  unlocks  a  drawer  and  takes  out  the  diary 
of  Hauteville.  He  looks  carefully  about  him,  then  picks 
out  a  volume  of  an  encyclopedia  from  the  book-case, 
opens  it  quickly  and  places  the  diary  inside.  He  seats 
himself  and  begins  to  read.  At  this  moment  the  center 
door  is  opened  slowly,  and  Frau  Beermann  stands  on  the 
threshold. 

Frau  Beermann.     Are  you  alone,  Fritz? 

Beermann  [frightened,  slams  the  book  so  that  the 
diary  is  concealed  in  it^.      Goodness,  you  did  frighten  me  ! 

Frau  Beermann.  I  did  not  know  how  nervous  you 
were  until  yesterday. 

Beermann.  Oh,  what,  nervous.^  I  am  over-worked 
and  irritable.  Every  single  day,  I  have  to  prepare  a 
new  speech. 

Frau  Beermann.  Is  it  in  that  work  that  I  disturbed 
you?     Pardon  me. 

Beermann.     Do  you  want  anything? 

Frau  Beermann.  I  just  wanted  to  have  a  few  seri- 
ous words  with  you. 

Beermann.  But  not  necessarily  at  this  moment. 
To-morrow  or  .  .  . 

m 


"Moral'*  69 

Effie  [opening  the  glass  door,  calls  in^.  Oh^  papa, 
did  you  forget? 

Beermann   [uneasily'].     Forget  what? 

Effie  [entering].  Weren't  we  to  see  the  Indian 
dancer  to-day? 

Beermann.     Well,  it  can't  be  done  to-day. 

Effie.  That's  a  shame;  I  wanted  so  much  to  see  her 
and  to-night  is  her  last  appearance. 

Beermann.  Then  we  will  wait  until  the  next  one 
comes  along. 

Effie.  I  don't  see  why  just  we  have  to  have  this  bad 
luck. 

Beermann  [with  emphasis].  Because  I  have  more 
important  things  to  do  than  to  watch  your  hop,  skip  and 
jump. 

Effie  [jolly].     Oh,  aren't  you  cranky? 

Beermann.  I  am  not  at  all  disposed  for  such  non- 
sense. 

Effie  [going  over  to  the  desk,  picJcs  up  the  volume  of 
the  encyclopedia.]  All  this  comes  from  your  politics; 
now  I  will  simply  confiscate  your  ammunition. 

Beermann  [excited].     Give  me  that  book. 

Effie  [jumping  away].  No,  no,  papa,  you  will  only 
get  sick. 

Beermann  [shouts].  I  forbid  these  stupid  jokes. 
Put  that  book  down. 

Frau  Beermann.     What  is  the  matter? 

Beermann.  I  never  could  tolerate  disobedient  chil- 
dren, that's  all. 

Effie  [placing  the  book  on  the  desk].  Oh,  pardon 
me,  papa. 

Beermann  [grasps  the  volume  tightly  and  places  it  in 
the  book-case].  All  fooling  has  its  limits;  don't  forget 
that. 

Effie.  Now  I  suppose  as  a  punishment,  we  can't  see 
the  dancer. 


70  "Moral" 

Beermann.  Really  I  would  rather  go  with  you  than 
—  sit  here,  but  it  is  absolutely  impossible. 

Frau  Beermann.  Go  now,  darling;  I  must  talk  to 
papa  alone. 

Beermann.     But  I  haven't  the  time. 

Frau  Beermann  [positively].  That  much  of  it  you 
have. 

Effie.     Good-bye,  papa  dear.      [Goes  out.] 

Frau  Beermann.  [Seats  herself  on  the  sofa  next  to 
the  book-case.  Beermann  stands  leaning  with  his  back 
against  the  desk.  Through  the  large  window  the  eve' 
ning  sun  can  be  seen  so  that  Beermann's  face  is  in  its 
light,  while  Frau  Beermann  sits  in  the  half-dusk.] 

Beermann.     Lena  dear,  do  we  really  have  .  .  .    ? 

Frau  Beermann.     We  do. 

Beermann.     Can't  it  be  postponed? 

Frau  Beermann.  I  have  postponed  it  many  a  year, 
but  now  it  is  high  time. 

Beermann  [disturbed].'  Many  a  year?  What  are 
you  referring  to.'' 

Frau  Beermann.     I  have  a  request  to  make  to  you. 

Beermann.     With  pleasure.  .  .  . 

Frau  Beermann.  Don't  make  a  laughing-stock  of 
your  family. 

Beermann.     In  what  way? 

Frau  Beermann.  Don't  make  a  laughing  stock  of 
your  family,  I  beg  you. 

Beermann.     Please  don't  talk  in  riddles. 

Frau  Beermann.  These  are  not  very  great  riddles  to 
you. 

Beermann.     Speak  plainly,  won't  you? 

Frau  Beermann.  No.  I  am  not  going  to  speak 
more  plainly. 

Beermann.     As  your  husband,  I  demand  it. 

Frau  Beermann.     N-no. 


"Moral"  71 

Beermann.  That  is  very  sad.  There  should  be  no 
secrets  at  all  between  husband  and  wife. 

Frau  Beermann.  Is  this  a  principle  again?  Fancy 
all  these  great  secrets !  [^Beermann  shrugs  his  shoul- 
ders.] No.  Now  take  it  for  granted  that  I  know  a 
thing  or  two  about  you. 

Beermann  [with  anxiety].     You? 

Frau  Beermann.  Several  things.  Some  which  you 
must  know  only  too  well.  After  all,  that  principle  of 
yours  has  not  been  violated.  There  remain  no  secrets 
whatever  between  us. 

Beermann.  I  assure  you  I  shall  not  rack  my  brains 
about  it. 

Frau  Beermann.  Nor  would  I  want  you  to  regard 
me  as  sitting  in  judgment  on  your  acts. 

Beermann  [with  a  false  pathos].  Instead  of  telling 
me  freely  and  frankly  of  the  gossip  you  have  heard 
about  me ;  then  I  could  defend  myself. 

Frau  Beermann.  That  is  j  ust  what  I  want  to  avoid. 
To  me  it  appears  somewhat  childish  when  a  man  tries 
to  justify  .  .  . 

Beermann  [just  as  before].  In  this  manner,  the 
lowest  gossip  can  destroy  the  happiness  of  any  family. 

Frau  Beermann  [seriously].  Fritz,  really,  there  is 
no  one  listening  to  us  just  now. 

Beermann.     You  are  not  taking  me  in  earnest. 

Frau  Beermann.  No,  and  it  is  our  good  fortune  that 
I  am  not.     At  least,  my  good  fortune. 

Beermann.  You  call  that  good  fortune?  I  might 
have  expected  something  different  from  you. 

Frau  Beermann.  No,  sir,  you  did  not.  If  you  will 
be  honest  with  me,  you  will  admit  that.  This  many  a 
year,  we  have  been  playing  a  common  farce.  You  acted 
the  true  Christian  head  of  the  family  and  I  the  all-believ- 
ing audience. 

Beermann.     How  nice! 


72  "Moral" 

Frau  Beermann.  Not  nice  but  it's  true.  Perhaps 
the  fault  is  not  entirely  ours,  for  we  learned  it  from  our 
parents.  You  men  are  supposed  to  impress  us  with 
your  greatness  and  we  women  are  to  stand  by  and  ad- 
mire. 

Beermann.     Do  you  find  that  impossible? 

Frau  Beermann.  Even  the  best  Christian  family 
principles  must  have  some  foundation.  What  was  I 
supposed  to  admire.^ 

Beermann.     You  ask  that  now? 

Frau  Beermann.  Perhaps  I  gave  it  up  sooner  than 
others.  But  that  is  due  to  our  relationship.  We  were 
always  together.  Where  is  a  man  to  get  pose  and  char- 
acter enough  to  last  him  for  twenty-four  hours  every 
day? 

Beermann.  So  that  is  about  your  conception  of  our 
married  life? 

Frau  Beermann.     That  is  it  exactly. 

Beermann.     And  after  all  the  years  .  .  . 

Frau  Beermann.     I  acquired  it  rather  early. 

Beermann.  Now,  after  twenty-six  years  you  declare 
that  you  are  unhappy. 

Frau  Beermann.  No,  Fritz,  it  has  not  led  us  to  un- 
happiness.  There  has  been  no  sudden  shattering  of  an 
ideal.  Our  marriage  was  not  an  ideal  and  .  .  .  don't 
feel  offended  .  .  .  your  personality  was  never  so  immac- 
ulate, that  one  stain  more  or  less  would  spoil  the  effect. 

Beermann  [excited'\.  But  there  must  be  some  sort  of 
reason  back  of  all  these  reproaches? 

Frau  Beermann.  If  you  think  them  reproaches,  then 
we  do  not  understand  each  other. 

Beermann.     What  else  are  they? 

Frau  Beermann.  I  meant  it  merely  as  a  request. 
Do  not  bring  your  family  into  ridicule. 

Beermann.  You  are  playing  hide  and  seek  all  the 
time.     In  what  way  am  I  likely  to  do  that? 


"Moral"  73 

Frau  Beermann.  With  your  moral  priesthood  to 
which  you  have  absolutely  no  right. 

Beermann.     No  right? 

Frau  Beermann.  Not  the  slightest  one.  But  you 
are  creating  enemies  who  will  make  a  laughing-stock  of 
us  all,  if  they  find  out  certain  things.  Those  things  can 
be  found  out  whether  we  like  it  or  not. 

Beermann  [forced  laughter].  Lena  dear,  I  believe 
you  are  jealous. 

Frau  Beermann  [quietly].  Jealous,  of  what.^ 
[Short  pause.]  I  hope  that  you  credit  me  with  at  least 
good  taste  enough  not  to  be  jealous  of  my  so-called  right, 
and  .  .  .  otherwise  what  can  I  lose?  No,  Fritz,  I  am 
not  jealous.  [Short  pause,  it  is  getting  darker.]  I 
had  to  get  accustomed  to  it;  that's  true.  This  secrecy, 
the  petty  lies  and  the  false  gravity  irritated  me  a  little 
bit  too  much  at  first,  but  I  made  an  eflPort  so  that  I  could 
still  retain  a  feeling  of  comradeship.  I  overcame  it 
daily,  because  —  well  because  I  never  really  took  you 
seriously.      [Pause.] 

Beermann  [with  a  false  pathos].  Lena,  dear,  do  you 
realize  what  things  you  are  saying? 

Frau  Beermann.     Yes,  fully. 

Beermann  [as  above].  That  is  dreadful.  Every 
word  is  a  .  .  .  catastrophe!  I  have  until  today,  I 
have  until  this  hour,  believed  in  our  established  quiet 
happiness.     Now  shall  all  this  pass  away? 

Frau  Beermann.  Nothing  but  your  confidence  in  my 
blindness  shall  pass  away. 

Beermann.  Think  it  over.  There  can  be  no  real 
family  life  after  people  lose  faith  in  each  other. 

Frau  Beermann.   Oh,  a  person  gets  used  even  to  that. 

Beermann.  No.  Lena,  listen.  Someone  has  been 
telling  you  tales  and  I  cannot  defend  myself,  because  I 
don't  know  what  I  am  accused  of.  You  must  tell  me 
everything  right  now.     I  demand  it  of  you. 


74  "Moral" 

Frau  Beermann.  If  I  wanted  to  do  that,  I  would 
have  to  begin  "  many,  many  years  ago.   .   .   ." 

Beermann.     Well,  why  didn't  you  do  it  then? 

Frau  Beermann.  You  can  well  understand,  I  had 
my  reasons. 

Beermann.  For  such  silence  there  can  be  no  rea- 
sons. 

Frau  Beermann.  I  could  shut  my  eyes  and  remain 
silent.  That  was  my  privilege.  But  if  I  had  spoken 
out  and  permitted  you  to  appease  me  .  .  .  no,  that  was 
something  beyond  me.  To  do  that  I  would  have  been 
obliged  to  lie  and  for  that  I,  for  one,  have  not  the  abil- 
ity. [Beermann  makes  a  motion.'^  No,  do  not  inter- 
rupt me.  These  things  will  have  no  consequences  as 
long  as  I  do  not  wish  them  to,  but  if  I  should  name  them, 
then  they  would  have. 

Beermann.  Then  shall  I  let  this  suspicion  rest  upon 
me.'' 

Frau  Beermann.     Yes. 

Beermann.  How  coldly  you  speak.  If  what  you 
suspect  were  true,  vou  could  not  be  so  indifferent  about 
it. 

Frau  Beermann.  Do  the  by-laws  of  your  society 
prescribe  that  in  cases  like  these  the  wife  shall  be  un- 
happy ? 

Beermann.  Imagine !  The  many  years  that  you 
and  I  have  lived  together  and  you  had  these  suspicions 
right  along  and  never  said  a  word  about  them.  Why  do 
you  speak  to-day.'' 

Frau  Beermann.  Because  you  have  reached  the 
point  where  our  friendship  for  one  another  may  break. 
Everything  I  see  and  hear  from  you  now  hurts  me. 
You  speak  in  a  tone  of  strictness,  which  must  be  un- 
pleasant even  to  you.  For  weeks  past  there  has  been 
nothing  around  me  but  lies.  What  you  say  to  me,  all 
that  you  say  to  the  children,  and  what  you  preached  here 


"Moral"  75 

publicly  last  night.  Every  word  hurts  my  ears  and 
urges  me  to  contradict  you;  I  am  silent  and  by  doing 
that  I  endorse  your  lies. 

Beermann,     But,  Lena  .  .  . 

Frau  Beermann.  Finally  when  your  every  glance  is 
artificial,  each  motion  of  yours  is  a  pose.  Then  it  is  un- 
bearable. Add  to  that  my  anxiety  for  our  children. 
How  shall  they  still  retain  faith  in  us,  if  through  an 
accident  their  eyes  are  opened.''  I  had  remained  silent 
all  this  time  for  their  sake  and  now  you  are  inviting  the 
whole  world  to  speak.  I  cannot  continue  to  live  this  life 
of  worry  and  hypocrisy.  All  that  I  have  already  over- 
come awakens  again  and  appears  to  me  more  ugly  than 
ever  before.  I  do  not  know  if  I  can  still  believe  in  your 
good  fellowship  and  remain  your  friend.  [She  rises 
and  goes  slowly  to  the  door.'\ 

Beermann.  I  do  not  seem  to  know  you  any  more. 
During  our  entire  married  life,  you  have  not  spoken  as 
seriously  as  in  the  last  fifteen  minutes. 

Frau  Beermann.  That  perhaps  was  my  great 
mistake.  But  I  have  paid  for  it.  [She  opens  the 
door.'\ 

Beermann.  Lena  dear,  have  you  nothing  further  to 
tell  me? 

Frau  Beermann.  I  just  beg  of  you;  do  not  bring 
your  family  into  ridicule.      [_Exit.'\ 

Beermann.  [For  a  while  remains  standing;  lost  in 
thought;  then  he  turns  on  the  electric  light,  sighing, 
goes  over  to  the  book-case,  takes  out  the  volume  of  the 
encyclopedia  wherein  the  diary  of  Madame  de  Haute- 
ville  is  hidden,  opens  it  and  reads  standing.  A  knock 
on  the  door.  Frightened,  he  quickly  hides  the  diary  in 
his  side  pocket.^ 

Beermann.  Come  in.  [Justizrat  Hauser  enters  on 
the  left.] 


76  "Moral" 

Hauser.     Lord;  good  evening. 

Beermann  [hurrying  toward  him].  Lord;  how  glad 
I  am  that  you  have  come. 

Hauser.     Has  anything  happened? 

Beermann.     N  .  .  .  no. 

Hauser.  I  received  your  message  that  you  must  see 
me  tonight  without  fail. 

Beermann.     Yes,  I  was  at  your  house  twice. 

Hauser.  Unfortunately,  I  was  not  there.  [He  has 
taken  off  his  overcoat  and  is  laying  it  on  a  chair.^  Tell 
me,  you  seem  to  me  all  upset. 

Beermann.     I  am  upset. 

Hauser.  I  suppose  that  is  why  you  sent  for  me. 
Well,  then,  what  is  it.'' 

Beermann.  Have  a  seat,  please.  [They  sit  down 
to  the  left  on  the  sofa.']  I  must  begin  a  little  way  back. 
.  .  .  Have  a  cigar?  [He  goes  over  to  the  humidor, 
takes  out  a  box  of  cigars  and  offers  it  to  Hauser,  who 
takes  one.]  I  must  begin  a  little  way  back.  .  .  .  Can 
you  remember  the  subject  we  discussed  last  night? 

Hauser.  The  genuinely  righteous  moral  life?  [He 
lights  his  cigar.]  Of  course,  I  remember  it.  Such 
sermons  are  not  easily  forgotten. 

Beermann.  Do  you  know  I  got  the  impression  that 
you  have  a  rather  liberal  viewpoint. 

Hauser.     Liberal  ? 

Beermann.     I  mean  that  you  are  not  a  prude. 

Hauser.  I  am  an  old  lawyer,  you  know,  and  just  our 
of  sheer  habit  contradict  people.  I  made  myself  blacker 
than  I  actually  am.  So,  if  you  have  scruples  on  my  ac- 
count ... 

Beermann.  I  merely  mentioned  it  because  you  un- 
derstand life  and  I  must  speak  to  someone  who  judges 
more  liberally  than  our  narrow  minded  bourgeois. 

Hauser.  More  liberally  than  you  judged  last 
night  ? 


"Moral"  77 

Beermann.  I  was  overzealous,  but  don't  let  us  talk 
about  it.  I  want  to  ask  you  for  advice.  [Short  pause.] 
You  lawyers  are  bound  to  respect  professional  se- 
crets .f* 

Hauser.     We  must  respect  them. 

Beermann.  What  I  am  about  to  tell  you,  you  will 
probably  find  most  astounding,  but  it  is  to  be  considered 
absolutely  confidential.  Even  though  your  client  con- 
fesses a  crime,  you  are  not  permitted  to  divulge  the  in- 
formation } 

Hauser.     What  a  careful  criminal  you  are! 

Beermann.  It  is  possible  that  you  will  find  this  in- 
formation most  unpleasant. 

Hauser.  [Bends  and  talks  in  a  low  voiced.  Now 
don't  worry  about  me,  Beermann.  I  will  know  how  to 
protect  your  interests.  The  law  gives  me  the  right  to 
remain  silent  in  any  event. 

Beermann.  Well  then  .  .  .  [nervously  runs  his  fin- 
gers through  his  hair]  I  really  have  to  begin  a  little  way 
back.  The  last  few  days  I  have  been  thinking  a  great 
deal  about  monogamy.  I  am  surely  the  last  person  to 
doubt  the  high  moral  value  of  the  marriage  vow,  but 
there  is  something  to  be  said  on  the  other  side.  It  is  in- 
deed a  very  ticklish  theme  to  discuss. 

Hauser.  Suppose  then  that  we  skip  the  prologue  and 
the  few  opening  chapters  and  start  at  once  with  the  af- 
fair of  Madame  Hauteville. 

Beermann.     How  do  you  know  .  .  .    ? 

Hauser.  I  suspected.  You  probably  are  not  the 
first  one  who  has  come  to  confess  to  me.  Since  last 
night  many  consciences  have  been  jolted.  So  you,  too, 
belong  to  that  crowd  .f* 

Beermann.  You  ask  yourself  how  such  things  are 
possible .'' 

Hauser.  No,  sir,  I  never  ask  myself  such  stupid 
questions. 


78  "Moral" 

Beermann.  You  have  always  believed  that  an  un- 
disturbed happiness  prevailed  in  my  family. 

Hauser  [quickly].  Beermann,  I  resent  that!  Do 
not  try  to  make  yourself  interesting. 

Beermann,  Don't  take  it  the  wrong  way.  I  am  not 
blaming  anybody.     I  just  want  to  .  .   . 

Hauser.  You  even  want  to  find  moral  justification 
for  your  immorality. 

Beermann.  I  know  well  enough  that  it  is  unjustifi- 
able. I  have  been  saying  that  to  myself  a  hundred 
thousand  times.  Do  not  think  that  I  overcame  my  prin- 
ciples so  easily. 

Hauser.     All  you  had  to  overcome  was  your  timidity. 

Beermann  [sighing  deeply].     If  you  only  knew. 

Hauser.  Of  course  you  did  not  land  on  the  primrose 
path  with  both  feet,  but  you  climbed  carefully  over  the 
fence  —  just  as  befits  a  man  of  your  embonpoint. 

Beermann.  I  expected  something  better  from  you 
than  mere  mocking. 

Hauser.  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  Shall  I  weep 
because  you  have  sinned?  Why?  What  good  would  it 
do  you?  That  is  the  way  of  your  kind.  As  long  as  no 
one  has  proofs  against  you,  your  virtue  must  always  be 
under  the  spotlight,  but  the  very  minute  you  trip  up, 
some  peculiar  background  of  justification  ought  to  be 
invented  for  the  smallest  sin.  No,  my  dear  friend. 
The  world's  moral  system  will  not  go  to  pieces  just  be- 
cause you  slipped  and  broke  your  nose. 

Beermann.  You  cannot  realize  what  suffering  you 
are  inflicting  upon  me  right  now. 

Hauser.  Now  please  don't  make  long  speeches.  You 
did  not  call  me  here  to  grant  you  absolution.  You  want 
me  to  help  you  to  quash  this  affair. 

Beermann  [jumps  up  quickly  from  his  chair].  Yes, 
you  must  do  that.     Good  Lord,  I  beg  you.     I  am  in  a 


"Moral"  79 

terrible  position.     You  have  not  the  slightest  idea  how 
nervous  I  am. 

Hauser.  Will  you  please  sit  down  and  stop  exag- 
gerating ? 

Beermann  [sits  down'].  No  man  living  can  have  suf- 
ficient imagination  to  enlarge  on  this.  Imagine  it! 
Any  moment  the  police  are  likely  to  come  here  and  ar- 
rest me. 

Hauser  [^seriously'].  Have  you  been  carrying  on  so 
badly  at  Hauteville's  ? 

Beermann.  No.  Not  there.  That  is  not  worth 
while  mentioning. 

Hauser.  Why  then  do  you  fear  the  police?  That's 
all  nonsense.  Now  just  consider  everything  quietly  and 
calmly.     By  the  way,  has  your  wife  any  suspicions  .  .  .  ? 

Beermann.  Of  this  affair?  I  don't  think  so.  She 
has  just  a  general  one  .  .  .  but  what's  the  use  of  both- 
ering with  trifles!  You  know  that  this  stupid  woman 
kept  a  diary,  and  that  they  found  it  in  her  apart- 
ment. 

Hauser.  Assuredly  I  know  it.  Without  that  diary 
we  would  not  have  so  many  penitents  in  the  City. 

Beermann.  Imagine  my  position.  I  know  posi- 
tively that  my  name  is  in  that  book.  It  means  that  I  am 
simply  done  for  by  the  cursed  thing. 

Hauser.  Is  it  so  certain  that  your  name  is  in  the 
book  ? 

Beermann   [loudly].     Yes,  sir. 

Hauser.     It  may  be  possible  that  .  .  . 

Beermann.  It  is  not  at  all  possible.  My  name  is 
there.  Shall  I  quietly  sit  and  wait  until  I  am  ruined? 
You  know  that  I  would  be  ruined  if  it  became  public. 
Fancy,  I,  the  candidate  for  the  Reichstag;  I,  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Vice !  All  the 
papers  would  be  full  of  it. 


80  "Moral" 

Hauser.     Oh,  yes,  it  would  be  quite  interesting. 

Beermann.  Then  think  of  the  consequences  here  in 
the  City !  In  the  family !  Why,  I  would  be  killed  out- 
right! Lord,  how  I  tried  to  hammer  it  into  the  head  of 
that  stupid  man  in  the  Police  Department  so  lie  could 
understand  what  terrible  mischief  this  will  make. 

Hauser  [frightened].  You  went  to  Police  Head- 
quarters }' 

Beermann.     Of  course,  I  was  there. 

Hauser.     Did  you  confess  ? 

Beermann.  How  can  3'ou  suppose  that?  [Sits 
dozen  again.]  I  spoke  for  the  others.  I  explained  to 
the  official  that  he  is  showing  up  the  influential  element; 
that  he  is  injuring  the  established  order  of  society, — 
but  [he  touches  his  forehead  with  his  palm]  that  fellow 
has  nothing  but  police  ordinances  in  his  head. 

Hauser.  Shouting  will  not  help  us  a  bit.  Remain 
cool  and  collected.  One  thing  is  important,  at  this  mo- 
ment. Has  the  diary  reached  the  District  Attorney's 
office? 

Beermann.     No,  it  has  not. 

Hauser.  Well,  as  long  as  it  remains  in  the  Police 
Department  there  are  still  possibilities. 

Beermann.  It  is  not  in  the  Police  Department 
either. 

Hauser.  Of  course  it  is  there.  Where  else  should  it 
be? 

Beermann  [indicating  his  side  pocket].     Here. 

Hauser  [amazed].     What? 

Beermann  [takes  the  diary  out  of  his  side  pocket  and 
places  it  on  the  table].     Here  it  is. 

Hauser.  So,  this  is  the  celebrated  diary  of  Madame 
Hauteville.      [Beermann  nods.]      Who  gave  it  to  you? 

Beermann.     Nobody.     I  just  took  it. 

Hauser.     You  mean;  you  sto  .  .  . 

Beermann.       .  .  .  Stole  it,  yes,  sir. 


"Moral"  81 

Hauser  [pulls  back  his  chair  and  breaks  into  a  loud 
laugh~\.  You  did  that!  [He  laughs.]  .  .  .  Say,  that's 
pretty  good.  Now  I  am  beginning  to  respect  you. 
Confound  it,  I  would  never  have  given  you  credit  for  a 
stunt  like  this.      [He  laughs  and  slaps  his  knee.] 

Beermann.     Laugh,  while  I  am  dying  of  fright. 

Hauser.  Don't  spoil  my  good  impression  of  you !  I 
am  on  the  point  of  admiring  you.  [He  laughs  again.] 
Let  me  apologize.  I  always  held  you  as  a  wishy-washy 
bourgeois  and  now  you  go  and  pull  this  thing  off. 

Beermann.  You  had  better  give  me  some  advice.  I 
have  not  had  a  quiet  moment  since  I  took  the  book.  I 
want  to  destroy  it  but  how  can  I?  If  I  tear  it  up  the 
pieces  will  be  found. 

Hauser.     Burn  it. 

Beermann.  Where.''  There  is  no  fire  in  the  house, 
except  in  the  kitchen  range.  If  I  hide  it,  I  shall  always 
have  to  run  to  and  fro  to  see  if  it  is  there,  and  I  feel 
less  safe  if  I  have  it  on  my  person.  Then  I  have  al- 
ways a  feeling  as  though  that  thing  were  bulging  out  my 
pocket ;  and  the  police  must  be  missing  it  by  this  time. 

Hauser.  Oh,  tear  out  the  page  on  which  your  name 
appears  and  send  it  back  anonymously. 

Beermann.  Impossible.  My  name  appears  on  al- 
most every  second  page. 

Hauser.     Oh  ...  so. 

Beermann.  What  shall  I  do  when  the  police  ask  me 
for  the  book.'' 

Hauser.  There  is  only  one  way;  you  know  nothing 
about  it. 

Beermann.  But  they  will  be  dead  certain  that  I 
have  it. 

Hauser.  Remain  firm.  For  Heaven's  sake  don't 
fall  into  the  trap  that  by  confessing  you  will  improve 
this  fine  job.  [A  loud  and  prolonged  ringing  of  the  elec- 
tric bell  is  heard.] 


82  "Moral" 

Beermann  [frightened,  exclaims^.  There,  do  you 
hear  that? 

Hauser.     Some  visitor,  I  suppose. 

Beermann.  This  is  no  time  to  make  visits.  [Anx- 
iously picking  up  the  diary.']  What  shall  I  do  with  that 
damned  thing?  [Takes  out  a  volume  of  the  encyclope- 
dia and  wants  to  hide  the  diary  in  it  hut  hesitates,  and 
then  puts  the  volume  hack  on  the  shelf.]  Lord,  where 
shall  I  put  it? 

Hauser.     Come,  give  it  to  me. 

Beermann.  [Gives  him  the  hook  and  Hauser  puts  it 
in  his  side  pocket.] 

Hauser.     No  one  will  search  me  for  it. 

Beermann.     Stay  here  with  me  .  .  .  please. 

Hauser.  If  it  gives  you  any  pleasure,  yes;  but  man 
alive,  pull  yourself  together.  Suppose  it  really  were  the 
police;  you  are  trembling  all  over.    [A  knock  on  the  door.] 

Beermann  [crouching].  Quiet  now.  [Another 
knock.]  Come  in.  [Betty  comes  in  from  the  left  and 
hands  Beermann  a  visiting  card.] 

Betty.     The  gentleman  says  it  is  very  urgent. 

Beermann  [with  a  tremhling  hand  Beermann  takes 
up  the  visiting  card  and  reads].  Professor  Wasner. 
[He  sighs  audibly  and  then  says  with  forced  vigor.] 
Show  the  gentleman  up.      [Betty  exit.] 

Beermann.  And  this  has  been  my  state  of  mind  for 
the  past  six  hours. 

Hauser  [offering  him  his  hand].  Now  be  brave,  my 
dear  friend,  and  even  if  they  should  come  to  you,  just 
deny  it  outright.  You'll  know  how  to  lie.  A  man  of 
such  rare  abilities.  .  .  .  Good  night.  [Goes  out  on  the 
left.  In  the  doorway,  he  almost  collides  with  Professor 
Wasner.     They  greet  each  other.] 

Wasner  [wears  a  cape  the  left  corner  thrown  pictur- 
esquely over  his  right  shoulder,  holds  a  large  slouch  hat 
in  his  hand.     His  hair  is  disheveled.     His  flaxen  heard 


"Moral"  83 

falls  on  his  chesty.  I  am  here  in  regard  to  the  most  re- 
markable matter  a  man  ever  came  to  consult  another 
about, 

Beermann  [very  nervous].     Must  it  be  to-day,  Herr 
Professor? 

Wasner.     The  situation  permits  of  no  delay. 

Beermann.     But  it  is  getting  so  late. 

Wasner.  I  admit  that  this  is  hardly  the  proper  time 
to  make  visits.  Nevertheless,  I  entreat  you  to  hear  me. 
[Beermann  seats  himself  at  the  desk,  takes  out  a  large 
handkerchief  and  presses  it  against  his  forehead.  Was- 
ner remains  standing  and  continues.]  For  many  years, 
as  you  well  know,  I  undertook  the  task  of  collecting  all 
publications  which  have  been  undermining  public  morals. 
I  daresay  to-day,  that  my  collection  is  most  complete 
and  that  I  have  unquestionably  proven  the  harm  of  por- 
nographic literature.  What  corrupting  influence  this 
temptation  has  through  suggestion  and  imagination  can 
to-day  no  longer  be  doubted,  because  —  [an  impressive 
pause;  Wasner  lowers  his  voice]  —  I  myself  fell  a  victim 
to  it.  [Beermann  remains  in  his  apathetic  attitude. 
Pause.]  I  can  well  understand  that  you  lack  words.  I, 
too,  became,  on  account  of  it,  much  disgusted  with  my 
character.  I  asked  myself  if  I  still  have  the  right  to 
participate  in  the  moral  salvation  of  our  people  and  I 
have  decided  affirmatively  only  after  a  thorough  exam- 
ination.     [Pause.] 

Beermann  [absentmindedly].  Yes  .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  Herr 
Professor. 

Wasner.  You  are  entitled  to  know  everything.  Only 
spare  me  the  details.  Briefly  stated,  one  day  I  could 
not  view  my  collection  as  objectively  as  usual  and  thru 
a  friend  I  was  induced  to  make  a  most  damnable  visit. 
I  assure  you  that  I  simply  loathe  that  fellow. 

Beermann.  But  just  why  are  you  telling  me  all 
this.? 


84  "Moral" 

Wasner.  Because  together  we  have  fought  against 
immorality  shoulder  to  shoulder.  I  ask  you  if  you  still 
deem  me  worthy  to  strive  for  our  common  ideal. 

Beermann.  For  my  part,  go  as  far  as  you  like,  I 
won't  stop  you. 

Wasner.  Then  you  will  not  deny  me  your  assist- 
ance? 

Beermann.  Suppose  we  discuss  all  this  to-morrow, 
Herr  Professor.'' 

Wasner.  To-morrow  will  be  too  late.  [Beermann 
falls  back  into  his  chair  in  an  attitude  of  apathy.]  After 
my  false  step  I  became  convinced  that  it  is  my  duty  to 
protect  others  from  this  temptation.  My  feeling  of  duty 
became  stronger  until  finally  I  wrote  a  letter  to  be 
exact  —  an  anonymous  letter  —  to  the  police,  wherein  I 
demanded  emphatically  that  they  put  an  end  to  the  mis- 
conduct of  this  person. 

Beermann  [now  attentive.]  Really  that  was  not 
nice. 

Wasner.  I  wanted  to  assure  myself  that  within  I 
still  had  the  right  to  belong  to  the  Society  for  the  Sup- 
pression of  Vice. 

Beermann.  I  consider  that  rather  mean.  You 
should  always  be  grateful. 

Wasner.  This  very  feeling  would  have  made  me  feel 
still  more  guilty.  [Beermann  shrugs  his  shoulders  nerv- 
ously.'] But  now  I  come  to  the  reason  for  my  being 
here.  My  information  had  results  .  .  .  This  creature 
was  arrested  and  to-day  after  dinner  my  false  friend 
comes  to  tell  me  that  he  had  not  been  careful,  had  men- 
tioned to  her  my  name,  and  I  am  certainly  indexed  in  the 
book  she  kept.  This  book  was  found  in  her  place  by 
the  police. 

Beermann  [jumping  up].     What's  her  name.'' 

Wasner.     Hauteville. 

Beermann.     So,  it  is  you  to  whom  we  are  indebted 


"Moral"  85 

for  this  scandal.  ^Angrily.']  Do  you  fully  realize 
what  you  have  accomplished?  How  many  respectable 
fathers  of  families  you  have  brought  to  the  very  verge 
of  despair? 

Wasner.     I  know  it. 

Beermann.     You  don't. 

Wasner.     I  came  here  for  that  very  reason. 

Beermann  [not  understanding  him'].     What? 

Wasner.  I  came  here  to  request  you  on  behalf  of 
the  others  to  call  to-night,  a  meeting  of  the  Executive 
Committee.  The  Society  must  do  everything  in  its 
power  to  keep  this  case  out  of  court. 

Beermann.  Why  the  devil  did  you  write  that  anony- 
mous letter? 

Wasner.  Listen  to  me,  I  beg  of  you.  Someone  is 
involved  in  this  who  is  very  dear  to  you.  As  soon  as  I 
received  the  information,  I  hastened  to  Police  Head- 
quarters immediately  and  wanted  to  intervene  there  as 
the  representative  of  the  Society  for  the  Suppression  of 
Vice.  But  when  I  mentioned  that  name  I  was  very 
formally  thrown  out.  On  the  steps,  whom  do  you  think 
I  met  but  our  mutual  friend,  Kommerzienrat  Bolland! 
He  too  had  been  in  the  Commissioner's  office  and  had 
the  same  bad  luck.  I  told  him  my  troubles  and  he  ad- 
mitted to  me  that  he  also  had  been  lured  into  the  den  of 
this  Siren. 

Beermann.     Kommerzienrat ! 

Wasner.  Unfortunately.  But  that  is  something  I 
can't  at  all  account  for.  He  hardly  could  have  been  led 
into  temptation  through  a  collection  of  documentary  ex- 
hibits. 

Beermann.     And  what  do  you  want  of  me  now? 
Wasner.     Our   friend  sends  me  to  you.     He  would 
have  come  himself  but  the  shock  threw  him  into  a  sick- 
bed.    He  entreats  you  urgently  to  call  a  meeting  of  the 
Executive  Committee,  immediately.     We  have  very  in- 


86  "Moral" 

fluential  people  in  our  midst  who  must  bring  pressure  to 
bear  on  the  Department  of  the  Interior  in  order  to  hush 
up  this  affair. 

Beermann.  If  only  you  had  not  written  that  anony- 
mous letter. 

Wasner.     I  felt  a  moral  duty  to  do  it. 

Beermann.  And  now  it  is  our  moral  duty  to  patch 
up  this  matter.      [Betty  enters  on  the  left.] 

Betty  [hands  Beermann  a  calling  card].  The  gen- 
tleman says  it  is  very  urgent. 

Beermann  [reads].  "  Assessor  Stroebel."  [Fright- 
ened; to  Betty.]  Tell  him  I  am  out  of  town.  [Betty 
about  to  leave.]  No,  tell  him  I  am  sick  —  or,  Betty, 
show  the  gentleman  up.      [Betty  goes  out.] 

Wasner.  At  what  time  shall  the  Executive  Commit- 
tee meet? 

Beermann  [excited].  Oh,  leave  me  alone  with  your 
Executive  Committee. 

Wasner.  You  must  not  desert  us  in  our  hour  of 
peril.  A  leader's  fate  is  bound  up  with  his  followers  ac- 
cording to  German  tradition. 

Beermann  [as  before].  It  is  all  your  fault  any- 
way. 

Wasner.  Shall  I  then  tell  our  sick  friend  that  we 
cannot  count  on  your  support.'' 

Beermann.  If  I  am  so  situated  that  I  can,  I  will  be 
over  to  see  him  in  an  hour.  I  can't  promise  you  more 
now.  [Assessor  Stroebel  enters  on  left  and  remains 
standing  in  the  doorway.] 

Stroebel  [very  seriously.]  Herr  Beermann,  I  must 
speak  to  you  privately. 

Beermann  [confused].  You  —  with  me?  Well, 
since  you  must,  I  suppose  you  must. 

Wasner.  Well,  I  am  going.  [Wasner  exit  left.] 
Stroebel  enters.  Wasner  remains  standing  on  the 
threshold.]     The  Executive  Committee  will  be  called  to 


"Moral"  87 

the  sick  bed  of  our  friend.  We  shall  await  our  chair- 
man. [He  goes.  Stroebel  and  Beermann  remain  stand- 
ing, silent,  facing  each  other. 1 

Stroebel.  You  are  surprised^  I  presume,  that  I  come 
here  at  this  unusual  hour. 

Beermann.     Why  should  I  be  surprised.'' 

Stroebel.  You  will  have  to  pardon  me.  The  matter 
which  brings  me  here  is  unusual  and  urgent. 

Beermann.  Oh,  don't  mention  it.  [A  short  pause. 
They  both  clear  their  throats.l 

Stroebel.     You  were  in  my  office  this  morning  .  .  . 

Beermann.     Was  1.'* 

Stroebel.  Why,  of  course  you  were  in  my  office  this 
morning. 

Beermann.  Oh,  yes,  yes.  I  remember  we  had  a 
short  conference.  I  must  ask  you  to  excuse  me,  Herr 
Assessor.  I  am  suffering  with  an  awful  ringing  in  the 
ears.     It  makes  me  so  forgetful. 

Stroebel.  But  I  hope  you  still  remember  what  we 
spoke  about. 

Beermann.  Very  dimly.  If  you  would  remind  me 
of  it  perhaps  it  will  not  be  so  difficult. 

Stroebel.  You  came  on  account  of  the  Haute ville 
case. 

Beermann.     So-o? 

Stroebel.     Or  the  Hochstetter  .  ,  . 

Beermann.     Well,  since  you  say  so,  it  must  be  so. 

Stroebel.  First  I  thought  you  came  to  express  your 
satisfaction  that  we  had  caught  this  person  .  .  . 

Beermann.     No,  that  was  not  my  purpose. 

Stroebel.  I  am  sure  it  wasn't.  I  was  quite  sur- 
prised that  you  were  not  satisfied  with  her  arrest. 

Beermann.  Why  shouldn't  I  not  be  satisfied  with  her 
arrest  ? 

Stroebel  [nervouslyl.  But,  Herr  Beermann,  you 
will  recollect  how  we  discussed  the  diary. 


88  "Moral" 

Beermann  [quickly].  A  diary?  I  know  nothing 
about  it. 

Stroebel,  You  even  became  quite  excited  about 
it. 

Beermann.  I  know  nothing  whatever  of  any  diary. 
You  never  showed  me  any  book  at  all.  Of  that  I  am 
very  positive, 

Stroebel  [in  despair].  It  is  just  my  confounded 
luck  to  find  you  in  this  predicament.  You  are  evidently 
suffering. 

Beermann.     An  awful  ringing  in  my  ears  — 

Stroebel.  I  would  leave  you  at  once  if  the  least  de- 
lay were  possible.  But  I  simply  must  speak  to  you 
about  it  to-night.  Can't  you  get  relief  by  taking  medi- 
cine ? 

Beermann.  No  medicine  can  help  me.  I  can 
only  tell  you  that  I  do  not  know  anything  about  any 
diary. 

Stroebel.  Lord,  Lord,  leave  the  diary  out  of  it  alto- 
gether.    It  is  absolutely  of  no  importance. 

Beermann.     It  is  of  no  importance? 

Stroebel.  Of  course,  it  is  safely  locked  in  my 
desk  .  .  , 

Beermann.  Is  that  so?  Well,  then  I  can't  under- 
stand why  you  hurried  to  see  me  to-night. 

Stroebel  [very  embarrassed].  But  that  is  exactly 
what  I  wanted  to  explain  to  you.  But  how  shall  I  do  it? 
You  scarcely  remember  any  more  than  that  you  were  in 
my  office  this  morning.  It  is  incredible  how  misfortune 
has  been  persecuting  me  since  noon. 

Beermann  [greatly  relieved].  Well,  calm  yourself, 
Herr  Assessor.     It  will  come  out  right  in  the  end. 

Stroebel  [downcast].  No,  it  can  never  come  out 
right. 

Beermann  [soothingly].  Sit  down  nicely  in  this 
chair  —  so!     I'll  sit  next  to  you  here  —  so!  .  .  .  And 


"Moral"  89 

now  let  us  see  about  it.  [I'^ei/  seat  themselves  on  the 
left,  upstage. 1  Do  you  know,  I  am  beginning  to  feel 
much  better  already.     So  the  diary  is  in  your  desk. 

Stroebel.  For  my  part,  let  it  be  buried  a  thousand 
feet  deep.  For  God's  sake,  don't  talk  of  it  any  more. 
It  takes  us  away  from  my  subj  ect. 

Beermann.  That's  right.  We  shan't  talk  of  it  any 
more.  Now  let  me  see,  I  called  on  you  about  the  Haute- 
ville  case.  .  .  . 

Stroebel.  And  on  this  occasion  you  demanded  that 
the  police  suppress  the  matter. 

Beermann.     Quite  true,  I  did  that. 

Stroebel.  There  you  are !  And  that's  why  I 
thought  you  were  mostly  interested  in  avoiding  scandal. 

Beermann.     In  what  way? 

Stroebel.  Not  personally,  but  from  a  wholly  hu- 
manitarian or  civic  standpoint.  You  even  told  me  that 
just  because  of  your  position  as  President  of  the  Society 
for  the  Suppression  of  Vice,  you  regarded  it  as  your 
duty  to  keep  this  matter  out  of  the  courts. 

Beermann.     Only  for  the  common  welfare. 

Stroebel.  And  out  of  consideration  for  public  opin- 
ion. I  had  the  impression  that  these  considerations  were 
of  great  importance  to  you. 

Beermann.  And  still  are.  Do  you  think  I  change 
my  views?  I  repeat  to  you,  that  I  would  consider  this 
court  trial  a  misfortune  because  it  would  be  contrary  to 
the  established  order  of  Society. 

Stroebel.     Then  we  are  agreed  in  our  principles ! 

Beermann.     You  too? 

Stroebel.     Absolutely. 

Beermann.  I  thought  that  you  had  .  .  .  this  fore- 
noon .  .  . 

Stroebel.  And  I  was  also  mistaken  because  you 
didn't  seem  to  remember.  But  at  any  rate  we  agree  in 
our   principles.     [They   shake   hands.]     Although   that 


90  "Moral" 

does  not  accomplish  anything  still  it  is  a  great  relief  to 
me  that  we  understand  each  other.  I  am  coming  now  to 
the  real  purpose  of  my  visit.  [He  clears  his  throat.^ 
Herr  Beermann,  I  must  demand  your  word  of  honor  that 
not  a  syllable  of  what  I  tell  you  will  ever  pass  your  lips. 

Beermann.     My  sacred  word  of  honor. 

Stroebel.  These  are  official  secrets,  perhaps  even 
State  secrets,  and  a  single  careless  word  might  have  tre- 
mendous consequences. 

Beermann.     You  can  depend  on  me. 

Stroebel.     Not  even  to  your  family. 

Beermann.     Not  a  breath. 

Stroebel.  To  tell  you:  Since  you  were  at  my  oflBce 
this  morning  there  were  most  remarkable  developments, 
quite  unique  in  their  way.  But  I  have  your  word  of 
honor  —  have  I  not  ? 

Beermann.     My  sacred  word  of  honor. 

Stroebel  [bends  low  and  protects  his  mouth  with  his 
hand  and  whispers].  That  very  night  when  Madame 
Hauteville's  apartment  was  raided,  without  our  knowl- 
edge a  very  distinguished  person  was  hidden  there. 

Beermann.     I  can  imagine. 

Stroebel  [loudly].  You  can't  imagine  it  at  all. 
[Whispering.]  Our  young  heir.  Prince  Emil,  was  there 
himself. 

Beermann  [surprised,  slapping  his  thigh].  Now 
what  do  you  think  of  that ! 

Stroebel  [loudly].  You  can  understand  that  I  am 
not  telling  you  this  as  a  mere  bit  of  gossip,  but  certain 
important  reasons  compel  me  to.  That  which  you  men- 
tioned before  about  the  reasons  of  state  was  fulfilled. 
Fulfilled  to  the  very  letter.  All  possibilities  of  prose- 
cuting this  person  at  present  have  simply  gone  up  in  the 
air. 

Beermann  [starting  from  his  seat].  Then  every- 
thing is  all  right. 


"Moral"  91 

Stroebel.  There's  nothing  "  all  right "  about  it. 
Keep  your  seat,  Herr  Beermann.  Of  course  our  desire 
to  prosecute  has  disappeared,  but  the  lady  in  question  is 
still  at  headquarters  and  we  don't  know  how  to  get  rid 
of  her. 

Beermann.  Madame  Hauteville?  [Stroebel  nods.'} 
Just  forget  to  lock  the  door  and  she'll  vanish. 

Stroebel  [shaking  his  head}.  No,  .  .  .  for  a  great 
many  reasons.  Do  you  think  I  did  not  try  hard  to  find  a 
solution.''  First,  if  we  openly  permit  her  to  escape,  the 
whole  city  will  know  it  to-morrow;  the  press  will  take  it 
up  and  there  will  be  a  far  greater  scandal  than  the  court 
proceedings  would  cause.  No,  sir,  at  least  the  letter  of 
the  law  must  be  carried  out.  Madame  Hauteville  must 
give  a  bond.  She  will  be  set  free  and  then  she  must 
escape.  That's  the  only  way  we  can  protect  ourselves 
from  criticism.     Do  you  understand  me.'* 

Beermann.     You  mean  .  .  .  about  the  bail? 
Stroebel.     Yes,  sir,  the  bail  first  of  all.     But  if  it 
were  only  the  bail!     Just  think!     She  doesn't  want  to 
go  at  all. 

Beermann.  She  does  not  want  to  .  .  .  ? 
Stroebel.  No.  I  gave  her  another  hearing  this 
afternoon  and  told  her  that  we  don't  care  to  bother  with 
her  any  more.  "  Listen,"  I  said  to  her,  "  you  are  lucky. 
Give  bail  of  Five  Thousand  Marks,  and  you  will  be  free 
in  ten  minutes.  There  is  a  ten  o'clock  train  for  Brus- 
sels to-morrow  morning."  [The  bell  in  the  hall  rings.}. 
What  do  you  suppose  she  said?  She  laughed.  She 
knows  very  well  why  we  are  so  humane,  but  she  will  not 
give  a  bond  of  five  marks,  even  if  by  luck  she  had  it. 
She  says  that  she  has  already  prepared  for  a  trial.  I 
talked  to  her  politely,  then  rudely.  She  will  not  budge. 
She  laughs  and  laughs  and  that's  all.  [Knock  at  the 
door.     Maid  enters  with  a  visiting  card.} 

Beermann  [to  the  maid}.     What  does  it  all  mean  to- 


92  "Moral" 

night,  at  this  hour?  This  is  not  a  hotel.  [^Takes  the 
card  and  reads.]  Freiherr  Bodo  von  Schmettau,  Herr 
auf  Zirnberg? 

Stroebel.     Do  receive  this  gentleman,  please. 

Beermann.     Now,  while  we  are  conferring.'' 

Stroebel.     Yes,  now,  if  you  please. 

Beermann  [to  the  maid].  Ask  the  gentleman  to 
come  in.      [Betty  exit.] 

Stroebel,  He  is  Adjutant  to  the  young  Prince.  I 
told  him  I  was  going  to  see  you,  and  you  can  realize  how 
upset  he  is. 

Beermann.     If  it  affords  you  pleasure. 

Stroebel.  It  does.  The  entire  responsibility  rests 
on  me  and  I  at  least  must  show  that  I  have  left  nothing 
undone.      [Knock  on  the  door.] 

Beermann.     Come  in.      [Schmettau  enters.] 

Schmettau.     Good  evening. 

Stroebel  [rising.  Beermann  rises  also].  May  I  in- 
troduce you  gentlemen  ?  Herr  Beermann,  the  banker  — 
Herr  Baron  Schmettau. 

Schmettau.  We  have  already  had  a  glimpse  of  each 
other  to-day. 

Beermann.     Yes,  I  remember. 

Schmettau.  You  are  the  President  of  the.  Local 
Morality  Club.  Before  we  go  further  I  must  tell  you 
that  I  do  not  at  all  agree  with  those  views  ,  .  . 

Stroebel  [interrupting  with  anxiety].  Herr  Baron, 
may  I  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  Herr  Beer- 
mann, personally,  is  far  above  these  narrow  theories. 

Schmettau.  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  Besides  as  theo- 
ries they're  not  so  bad. 

Beermann.     As  theories !     That's  what  I  say. 

Schmettau.     Well,  there  you  are! 

Stroebel.  Herr  Beermann  is  also  the  candidate  of 
the  local  Conservative-Liberal  Coalition. 

Schmettau.     Then   he   is    certainly   no   stickler    for 


"Moral"  93 

high-flown  notions.  I  should  be  right  glad  if  we  under- 
stood each  other.     And  how  far  are  you^  gentlemen? 

Stroebel.     In  principles  we  are  agreed. 

Beermann.     Absolutely. 

ScHMETTAu.  Then  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing the  right  solution. 

Stroebel.  I  have  taken  Herr  Beermann  into  our 
confidence. 

Schmettau.  That  was  a  very  disagreeable  mishap, 
was  it  not?  Very  bad.  Whoever  has  any  patriotism 
can  realize  it. 

Beermann.     Herr  Baron  was  also  .  .  . 

Schmettau.     Locked  in  the  closet. 

Stroebel.  Permit  me  to  revert  to  the  facts.  I  was 
just  telling  Herr  Beermann  that  this  Hauteville  woman 
refuses  to  leave.  She  boasts  that  she  has  not  the  bail 
and  even  if  she  had  it,  she  would  not  pay  it. 

Schmettau.  Confound  her!  She  controls  the  sit- 
uation. 

Stroebel.  Now  we  come  to  the  most  difficult  part 
of  it.  She  says  that  if  she  is  compelled  to  leave  the  city 
and  is  deprived  of  her  livelihood,  she  wants  proper  dam- 
ages for  it.  Of  course  I  told  the  woman  that  this,  to 
say  the  least,  was  an  extortionate  demand.  Well  then, 
she  says,  we  will  have  a  trial  in  court. 

Beermann.  The  fox !  She  knows  well  that's  out  of 
the  question. 

Schmettau.  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for  these 
sentiments. 

Stroebel.  I  asked  what  she  considered  proper  dam- 
ages. "  Ten  thousand  marks,"  she  says.  I  almost  lost 
my  senses.  With  the  necessary  bail  that  would  make 
Fifteen  thousand  marks. 

Schmettau.  In  the  end  perhaps  that  is  not  so  gi- 
gantic. 

Stroebel.     Who  is  going  to  pay  it? 


94.  "Moral" 

ScHMETTAu.  Not  we,  of  coursc.  Our  state  is  a  poor 
paymaster. 

StroebeI/.  Here  is  a  fine  mess,  which  I  cannot  solve 
—  at  least  not  I,  Herr  Beermann,  you  said  yourself 
that  your  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Vice  is  vitally 
interested  in  the  undisturbed  maintenance  of  the  popular 
belief  in  morality.  For  the  members  of  your  Society, 
it  ought  to  be  quite  easy  to  collect  that  sum.  I  know  of 
no  other  way. 

Beermann  [with  folded  hands  he  stands  in  a  pensive 
mood^.  The  Executive  Committee  is  expecting  its 
chairman.  And  I  know  of  a  professor  who  alone  ought 
to  pay  an  extra  thousand  for  a  letter  he  wrote.  [To  the 
others.'l  Gentlemen,  briefly  speaking,  I  will  do  it.  On 
behalf  of  the  society,  I  pledge  this  sum. 

ScHMETTAU.  Hcrr  von  Beermann,  I  can  only  say 
that  you  have  acted  honorably.  The  House  of  Emil  the 
Benevolent  knows  on  whom  to  confer  an  order.  [He  of- 
fers his  hand.'l 

Beermann.  But  let  me  assure  you,  Herr  Baron,  I 
did  not  do  it  expecting  a  reward. 

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